


Anemone

by yukasayu



Category: Naruto
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Aromantic Sasori, Demisexual Sasori, Dubious Consent, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Konan gets the airtime she deserves, M/M, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide, Torture, but like let's not get too caught up in classifying him, just let him be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-09 15:52:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukasayu/pseuds/yukasayu
Summary: Reincarnation is the cycle of life, as one life ends another begins. The only problem is, you're not meant to remember previous lives. Kabuto's reanimation jutsu has some unexpected and unintended side affects which hinder this process for some of the individuals it was used on -- namely Itachi, Deidara, Konan and Sasori. For some this is healing, for others it's a nightmare.





	1. Prologue: Daffodil

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Umbrella warning for this entire story: rape, torture and child abuse are going to happen. They will not be presented in a positive light and I by no means support those actions. I mainly write about them for the aftermath of hurt/comfort I can do once they're over. However, there will be some graphic details discussed. If this is something that bothers you then please hit the back button and spare yourself. You've been warned.  
> 2\. Endgame is ItaDeiOMC. Along the way there's going to be ItaKabu, SasoDei, ItaOMC, ItaDei, and DeiOMC. Konan/OFCs are going to be present as well.

When Itachi died he hadn’t expected much in the way of an afterlife. He’d expected darkness, nothingness, a final rest from the painful memories and harsh reality of his life as a Konoha shinobi. He’d actually been rather looking forward to it, as the former ANBU was mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. The years spent spying in enemy territory — _Akatsuki_ — had been draining. No one knowing who he truly was, no family, no friends, no trust or love or kind social interaction of any kind was more difficult than would be expected. Humans didn't like to think they needed social interaction and intimacy but they did. The world was too dark and life was too pointless without it. Sure, the raven had engaged in sex upon occasion as a manor of stress relief but there had been no feelings involved. How could there be? No one could know anything about him or he risked being found out and having his mission compromised.

 

Usually he’d resort to his hand and imagination because for someone of his personality and intelligence level, sex with another human being was unfortunately not entirely pleasurable or interesting without an emotional connection to his partner. Since an emotional connection was obviously out of the question he therefore rarely engaged in intercourse with other people. That isn’t to say he didn’t have much experience, since being a shinobi gave him the opportunity to use shadow clones and he was just desperate enough for human affection that it overcame the shame attached to fucking oneself. Due to this unique situation, while Itachi preferred the top position he ended up being quite accustomed to both. Additionally, he was very aware of what he liked and did not like, having frequently experimented with his clone out of boredom and curiosity. It was a little unusual seeing your own face looking back at you, flushed with pleasure and mouth parted to let out breathy moans, but he quickly got used to it. Besides, it gave him the added bonus of knowing what his partners would see of him during sex, therefore relieving him of the need to be as self-conscious about not knowing if he was letting anything slip or giving unusual reactions.

 

If he did go for another individual, it was almost always someone he would pick up for a one night stand in various villages throughout his travels on Akatsuki missions. Kisame would usually do the same so it wasn’t awkward when the suggestion occasionally arose for going into a town instead of sleeping in the woods or when one would disappear for a night unexplained. They were adults and they were soldiers and this was life. If Itachi frequently chose partners with long blonde hair and blue eyes or medium-length silver hair with black eyes, no one questioned it.

 

Within the Akatsuki itself no one intermingled in such a matter. Kakuzu had a betting ring going on that suggested Konan and Pein were together but it was never proven and Itachi, for one, seriously doubted they were anything beyond friends. In particular, he had his doubts ever since he started noticing the way Konan would look at other kunoichi and then sometimes disappear in their general direction when they were off duty. It was good to know — or at least presume — another member of their organization was LGBT+ since Itachi himself preferred men. It made him feel less alone with his sexuality. Although same-sex intercourse or even relationships were not in any way uncommon for those in their line of work, it was rarely discussed openly. The only people the raven could remember meeting in his life who were open about such things were his ex-ANBU captain Kakashi who was bi, one the 3 legendary sannin Tsunade (also bi), and more recently the new Akatsuki recruit Deidara who was absolutely only into men.  

 

Deidara especially clearly _gave no fucks_ about people knowing, considering he was bringing attractive men back to the base to fuck him on the regular. He was also not quiet about it in the slightest, although it wasn’t so bad considering the base was surprisingly expansive and even if someone was screaming in their room it was unlikely anyone would hear more than a very muffled sound that was hard to parse the meaning of, if anything at all. Itachi knew for a fact that Hidan often took advantage of this and brought victims back to torture and kill in the name of Jashin. If there was any member of Akatsuki that the raven severely disliked it was that one. To hurt others unnecessarily was something he despised and Hidan didn't even have a pitiable backstory for his insanity. That man was just batshit insane and the most likely psychopath out of the entire group.

 

Ignoring Hidan was easier though since their rooms were farther apart. Deidara was another case since he, Sasori, and Itachi all shared a floor of the building in Amegakure.

 

Truth be told, Itachi did actually find the blonde very attractive. His boisterous personality often made others doubt his intelligence but as someone who was living a very elaborate long-term lie himself, the raven suspected Deidara’s outward presentation of self wasn’t entirely accurate. In fact, in the Akatsuki he didn’t believe there to be anyone who was accurately portraying themselves. As a shinobi, and especially those of their caliber and position, it would be ridiculously dangerous to allow others to see their true selves.

 

Sasori hid how his traumatic childhood led him to desperately crave for affection to the point of turning himself into a puppet so he’d feel nothing, not even showing his true physical form. Kisame hid his motives and connection to his home village, likely to protect it in a similar fashion that Itachi was protecting his. Pein hid that he was actually Nagato, an individual who had sacrificed everything for his friends and for peace to the point his body could barely move or sustain itself. Obito was a whole other tragic mess of lies and espionage all together.

 

In fact, objectively speaking Akatsuki was probably a group made up of some of the saddest backstories in the current ninja world. They were all tragedies in disguise, trudging along in the group for various reasons often known only to themselves.

 

Deidara’s outward personality was just as likely a mask of some proportion as well. Not to say it wasn’t built on his real self, as all great masks are, but he almost certainly exaggerated some aspects and hid others to present a particular character. Doing so was equally a part of the blonde’s battle strategy as his clay and detonation techniques. To have such a good track record as the bomber did in winning battles against extremely skilled opponents, it was incredibly lacking in logic to think he was anything but adaptable and intelligent. The extent of his mental capabilities was unknown and it seemed he used this to his advantage, making himself seem more lacking in that capacity to throw his enemies off. Additionally, Itachi was sure the blonde wasn’t actually quite as loud, emotionally unhinged, and lacking in forethought as he seemed.

 

It also came as no surprise that any seduction mission requiring a male was given to Deidara. The other members may have been shocked if they’d known about this, but when Itachi had unintentionally found out this piece of information while trying to learn more about the organization that he could report back to Root, he wasn’t as surprised as one might expect. He’d had suspicions the blonde wasn’t as quick to temper or mentally unhinged as he portrayed beforehand, so learning that he was the resident male seduction shinobi — a job that required excellent espionage skills, adaptability, attractive looks, intelligence, and strategic maneuvering — only served to heighten those suspicions.

 

Regardless of all of this, during his lifetime Itachi had never made any moves or even gave the slightest hint to the blonde of his interest. Protecting the village and Sasuke were his top priorities and anything that could jeopardize those self-imposed missions was unquestionably not going to happen.

 

All of this is to say, that when Itachi finally died, he was happy to be relieved of a world filled with misfortune, war, and the tragic individuals produced out of the ashes of warring nations who had to rely on masks to survive. He didn’t want to wear a mask anymore, didn’t want fakeness and endless questioning of others motives. To be constantly on guard, suspicious, unable to trust, and unable to freely live a life where he could pursue happiness was personally devastating. It had the ability to drive a person insane, to break their soul, to drag them into the depths of a darkness so deep they forgot there was ever a light to begin with.

 

He’d been in ANBU since age 11 afterall, exposed to the darkest side of ninja society from an extremely young age. It had become all he knew. The only reason he hadn’t drowned in it was because Shisui protected him. His older cousin was his light in the darkness, and even after he died to protect the village and Itachi, the raven held onto that light with everything he had. To let it go would be to lose himself and so he clamped down on everything Shisui was with a mental iron grip, never losing sight of it.

 

When he died at the young age of 22, Itachi felt much much older, but he still carried Shisui’s wish for peace in his heart and he was happy to go while hoping he’d made an impact.

 

At first there was nothing, as the raven had hoped, he had no recollection of anything occurring between his death at Sasuke’s hands and being reanimated by Kabuto. That was ideal, he had no misplaced hopes that there would be an afterworld and if there was, Itachi had been certain he’d find himself in whatever version of a hellscape that existed for his crimes.

 

Getting the chance to talk to his younger brother, to help someone so similar to himself and yet different, to right things and push them just a little more in the direction of peace was an unexpected bonus that Itachi was grateful to the spy for. He knew he’d failed in some aspects during his life, that he could have done better, but as he told Sasuke — he wasn’t perfect and he didn’t want to be put on a pedestal. No being is perfect in his opinion. Perfection is but an unachievable concept and one that shouldn’t be pursued.

 

When the time came for the reanimation jutsu to be terminated and for him to leave the world once again Itachi expected the same nothingness as before. However, that wasn’t the case. Rather, he unexpectedly found himself walking along a dark path with what appeared to be a guide.

 

There was only darkness on all sides, except for this individual and himself. Of their journey he remembers very little, only that they were taking him to be reincarnated into his next life. They’d told him there could potentially be side effects of having been reanimated, that those occurred sometimes when the natural pattern was upset.

 

Those aforementioned side effects started happening when he was 15 years into his 2nd life. They began with dreams, memories of who he’d been previously.

 

Konoha,

 

Shisui,

 

Sasuke,

 

Tenma and Shinko,

 

Kakashi,

 

Kabuto,

 

Deidara,

 

Kisame,

 

Naruto.

 

He dreamed about all of them, and more. The massacre was the worst nightmare he could imagine. After a period of time he started to realize they were more than dreams, that he was remembering a past life, but it wasn’t like he could talk to anyone about it unless he wanted to risk being diagnosed with a mental disorder.

 

Instead, he went on as if nothing had changed. The loving family he was born into congratulated him as he graduated high school, then college, and then went on to get a medical degree. After his previous life where all he did was bring death, the least he could do was give back and try to help others. In all truth, that was actually what he’d desired from the beginning. Itachi had never wanted to be a shinobi and hurt others but there hadn’t been a choice at the time. Being born an Uchiha meant his future was set in stone. The raven was ecstatic to be given a choice this time around.

 

This world was a peaceful one, nations fought less and when they did it was more diplomatic in nature and less assassination was involved. He had 2 younger sisters who lived healthy and happy into old age, as did he and the man he settled down with. His chosen life partner was kind, considerate, playful and witty, and he looked a lot like Kabuto. In fact, he looked exactly like Kabuto had before he’d been taken by Orochimaru and twisted to suite the sannin’s use. He acted a lot like Itachi would have expected Kabuto to have, if he hadn’t been born into a world that shattered him.

 

Having his memories of the previous life and the brief encounter between reincarnations, Itachi surmised this individual was likely in fact a reincarnated Kabuto without his memories. Kabuto in the last life had also been a highly skilled medical-nin, and the silver haired man was now in the medical field in this life as well. It was where the two of them had met, both working in the hospital, Itachi in pediatric oncology and Kabuto in emergency medicine.

 

They met, settled down, got married, and had kids. It was soft and sappy and emotional and as close to perfection as Itachi dared getting. Everything they achieved together was sustained, nothing ripped away through murder or violence, and only mild setbacks occurred on occasion, all of which could be fixed through either a serious conversation or sex. If asked, Itachi would say he preferred the sex, because in this life he didn't have to lie and Kabuto didn't expect him to. Not that the conversation method wasn't also exceptional since they always ended up learning more about the other through these situations, but _damn_  if sex with the silver-haired man wasn't just as good as he'd been secretly thinking about in his past life when he hooked up with similar looking individuals.

 

Overall, in the end this life had been a very good one. Seeing his partner reach the potential he could have had when not used and abused by the life of a ninja was healing, seeing that the world could be a beautiful place without needless death the majority of the time was healing, seeing everyone he cared about live long lives without trust issues and needing to pretend to be anything other than what they truly were was healing. This lifetime had been refreshing and the devastation and trauma of before felt like they were miles away.

 

Though he still had nightmares and dreams about his first life and he still had bad days where he couldn’t stop remembering the past like it was happening _right now_ in the present, it was so much better than before. He felt lighter, brighter, healther.

 

So when the time came for him to move on, to end this life and be reincarnated, there was no fear or regrets. Itachi felt hopeful for the next one.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although ItaKabu won't really show up after this point I might write a pwp side story for those 2 later.


	2. Marigold Pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New meetings and old faces, there is pain in remembrance and some struggle to accept help where it's needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! From here on forwards I know the timelines may start to become confusing so I'll be posting a reference at the beginning of each chapter denoting each character's lifetime number/what # of life they are on. Does that make sense? I hope so! Here's the ones for this chapter to start us off:  
> Itachi: 3  
> Konan: 6  
> Deidara: 2  
> Asha: 4  
> Sasori: 2
> 
> Also, I don't have a beta, please ignore any mistakes.

The second time Itachi was reincarnated the memories arrived quicker. This time around the dreams began when he was thirteen, living at home with his single mother and their two cats. His father had been a soldier for their country and had died in a civil war seven years earlier. Despite the promise she’d made his father to move on and be happy in the event of his death his mother had never remarried or had other children. Regardless, they were relatively content living as they were.

 

His mother made a decent wage so they didn’t go wanting for food or shelter or any necessities. The war in which his father died was long over and their planet was enjoying a period of peace. Itachi considered himself massively lucky to be born into yet another peaceful world and privileged life. It was unusual not to have a sibling but he’d grown up the past thirteen years without one so he’d become accustomed to it.

 

Although in this life and his last Itachi had encountered many people whom he’d come to care for, other than Kabuto there wasn’t anyone he recognized from his first lifetime as a Konoha nin. Since the raven had so little knowledge of his current situation, beyond it being an accident that is, he had no way of knowing whether this was abnormal or to be expected. Perhaps the true size of the human population to have ever existed in all possible universes was so massive that seeing anyone more than once was probability-wise immensely low.

 

Considering this, he thought it must have been a truly unusual circumstance that led him to be not only born into the same timeline as Kabuto a second time, but to live in such close proximity to the other that they had been allowed to meet.

 

At least, that was what he thought until he ran into Konan. Or, to put the situation more accurately, Konan found him. She’d also retained her memories and while Itachi was on his third life, the older woman informed him that she was on her sixth. She appeared to know much more about their situation than he did, taking the time to track him down and explain things.

 

With a much larger human population this time around to factor into the equation Itachi had no idea how she managed to find him, but she always did have excellent tracking skills. How else would she have managed to recruit so many of the Akatsuki members? Besides, while he wasn’t trying to make himself known, Itachi had made no effort to hide himself from the public either, so it wasn’t as though it was particularly difficult to find information on him.

 

The knowledge on their situation she was able to provide him with was useful and it relieved the dark-haired man of some of the stress caused by not knowing which he’d been carrying around. She told him he’d been correct about the odds of meeting other individuals whom they’d known previously, there was just one aspect he hadn’t realized. Those who were like them — reincarnations who remembered, ot multi-lifers as she called them — were much more likely to run into each other over the course of history. Although they didn’t see each other every lifetime, the frequency which they did encounter each other was greater than he expected.

 

As far as she knew of, there were about nine individuals who experienced this phenomenon. Of those individuals only four were from their first life, including the two of them, and the others she’d met had no relation to them and seemed to be trapped in this eternal rebirth situation for reasons other than reanimation throwing off their life pattern. Those other souls typically didn’t get too involved with them, although she said there were two who she would consider something akin to allies who would visit upon occasion. It seemed that those who shared a first life usually kept to their own groups of individuals. At the moment there was Konan, Itachi, Deidara, and Sasori who made up one group. There was another group of three, and then the remaining two individuals were on their own. According to her, it was harder on those two since they usually had no group to rely on, they were essentially forced to wander through a dark, confusion-inducing eternity in solitude.

 

Despite the general lack of communication between groups, all nine of them had devised ways of keeping touch over the years, with Konan being similar to a porch light for everyone to use if they wanted to find their way ‘home’. She would deliberately make sure she was easy to find in various ways, sometimes by becoming famous for acting or dancing, other times through making a name for herself in the underworld. However she chose to do it, the fact was that if any of them needed to get in touch with the others they would do so through her.

 

“How likely is it that I’ll meet any of the others?” He’d asked her one day.

 

“For Deidara and Sasori it’s pretty likely. The others I’m not as sure. I tend to run into Asha quite frequently so you may meet him. It’s all the more probable if you live with me since I’m the lighthouse. If anyone wants to make contact they’ll do so through me. You living with me would help me out to, since having you here would give me an extra layer of protection.”

 

He didn’t ask what she needed protecting from, he was sure a twenty-five year old world champion female cage fighter could take care of herself pretty well. Konan hadn’t been anything to laugh at in her Akatsuki days either, easily being one of the strongest members. Whatever she was afraid of must have been serious and if she decided to inform him of it at some point Itachi would gladly help. Protecting the ‘home’ for the others was a worthwhile pursuit in his opinion and if she’d been doing this for lifetimes on her own then it was all he could do to aid in that end just a little bit.

Because of his desire to help and his loneliness in a new world with very little allies or people who could both comprehend and believe his situation, the two of them decided to become roommates.

 

They hardly received visitors but one day, about seven months into their new situation living with together, there was a soft knocking on the door.

 

Itachi opened the door to reveal a male, perhaps seventeen years of age, only two years younger than Itachi himself in this lifetime. They had a sense of danger and intrigue about them, being dressed in all black as they were — even down to the licorice-colored leather strap tying their hair loosely half up, like it had been styled that way in a rush. His eyes were rimmed with thick black eyelashes, which cast a shadow over the stormy grey of his irises and gave his eyes a beautiful yet haunted look.

 

A gust of icy wind blew through the hallway outside their meager yet cozy apartment, indicating the snowstorm to come, and sweeping up the stranger’s feathery bangs about his face. The weather was just as cold as this stranger’s demeanor, it seemed. The male looked at him momentarily, seeing Itachi’s questioning gaze, as he swept his hand up to shield his face and push his silken tresses out of his line of sight. If the former Konoha-nin hadn’t seen his eyes and the light smattering of freckles painted across his cheeks and high nose bridge then he could have easily mistaken this individual as someone from the Uchiha clan, with their hair as midnight black as it was.

 

The tendency to dress in all black, with his plain oversized sweatshirt — that could hide weapons, was this who Konan was leery of? — darkly colored jeans, combat boots, and worn black leather rucksack, certainly reminded him of Sasuke. Though, perhaps it was more the fact that this teenager exuded both quiet strength and disinterest without even speaking that reminded him of Sasuke more. Itachi thought of his younger brother then, wondering what he would have turned out like had life been kinder and less brutal. He had really fucked up his beloved sibling in their past life, unfortunately.

 

“Is Konan here?” the stranger inquired.

 

“She’s not here at the moment. May I know who's asking?” Itachi replied cautiously, one eyebrow raised in question.

 

“...I see,” the stranger murmured, looking down with eyes guarded.

 

“I’m no one, don’t worry about me,” and then he was gone.

 

***

 

“We had a visitor the other day, a teenager I’ve never seen before” Itachi informed his older roommate while he was making their usual morning pot of jasmine tea.

 

“A teenager? What were their identifying features?”

 

“Black hair, grey eyes, emotionally distant, said he was no one. There was something about them though that felt like an undercurrent of sadness.”

 

“Asha, probably,” nodding to herself, “Or it’s possible that was Ciel. Any other defining characteristics?”

 

“Heart-shaped face with freckles?”

 

“Definitely Asha then. What did he say?”

 

He finished pouring their tea and brought the two cups over to their wooden kitchen table, sitting down across from the older woman. After handing one mug to her, he lifted his up and inhaled deeply. Tea was always something he turned to as a destresser, it comforted him. Konan had noticed this and always made sure to buy fresh bulk herbs and tea leaves whenever she went to the grocery store — allowing Itachi to make a wide variety of personalized blends for himself to enjoy. He enjoyed sweets as well, though he had a harder time finding exactly what he wanted when it came to those. He missed the dango from the famous Konoha sweets shop he used to visit with Shisui and Sasuke, it was hard to find another store which made dango in quite the same manner.

 

“Nothing really. He asked for you and when I indicated that you were out he simply left.”

 

She sipped at her tea carefully, unsure if it was still hot and leaned back in her chair, regarding him with a kind gaze.

 

“Don’t take it personally, he has a soft heart underneath that wall of stone he typically projects. He almost never truly gets angry or intends to cause harm, it’s simply that in his quest to protect the fragility of his own soul that he often comes off as colder than he is internally. You remember what you were like in the Akatsuki?”

 

“Of course, it wasn’t that many lifetimes ago,” he answered flatly.

 

Although his second lifetime had helped him overcome some the negative emotions surrounding that time period, Itachi still tried his best to avoid reminiscing on it. He’d hated the person he was forced to become. In order to achieve his dream of peace and protect the goals Shisui had entrusted him with, his own self and happiness was nothing and worth discarding and sacrificing for the greater good. That hadn’t meant doing so had been easy though, as suppressing oneself can be an utterly painful and arduous process.

 

“Good. Now imagine you’d lived four lifetimes and each one was just as tragic and devastating as your first. Imagine how suspicious you'd be, how many trust and intimacy issues you would have, how heartbreakingly miserable and desolate you’d feel inside and how desperately you’d try to hide that from the world to protect yourself. That’s Asha. He’s got walls built up around himself that are miles high and I don’t think he’d know how to tear them down at this point if he wanted to.”

Itachi thought of Nagato, who had as great a desire for peace as Itachi, but who’d fallen prey to hatred under Madara’s influence. He thought of how he became disillusioned with the shinobi world, his hope lost. How the member of the once prominent Uzumaki clan had his ideal of peace won through communication and clean tactics stolen from him with the circumstances of Yahiko’s death.

 

He thought of Naruto, the child who had changed Nagato’s mind and returned his hope, who had every right to hate Konoha and despise the world around him and yet fought for recognition and friendship. The child had been born into a world without guidance, parents, or love, and yet had been kind and compassionate, working hard to bring about a new reality built on trust and saving many souls from darkness along the way.

 

“It’s unfortunate how many people each have us has known who’ve suffered under such fates, though the way in which we’ve all handled devastation has varied. Isn’t there anything we can do? Can’t someone help him?” Itachi implored, eyes downcast as he bit his lower lip gently in thought.

 

“Yes, but no one ever does. Either that, or they try and fail. I wish there was more I could do for him, but I can’t watch his story unfold any more than I already have. It’s too painful to watch people I care about be destroyed repeatedly. I’ve lived a combined total of nearly 250 years over 6 lifetimes and I just don’t have it left in me to try any longer. I’ve had to distance myself from him, for my own sake.”

 

Finishing her tea, she stood up to put her empty cup in the dishwasher. As she walked towards her room, her back towards him, she warned, “He’s a tragic case Itachi, I’d stay away if I were you.”

 

***

 

The next time Itachi saw him, Asha was standing on the opposite side of a subway platform, and he hadn’t noticed him. The now twenty-year-old was talking to a suspicious looking individual in hushed tones. The unknown person was partially hidden from view behind a pillar and when Itachi looked he could see that the location in which the two were speaking was very specifically chosen to be out of sight from all security cameras. They knew what they were doing.

 

Next thing he knew, the hidden individual was handing something to Asha and then disappearing around the staircase leading up to the street.

 

Before Itachi could see any more than that, the subway train arrived between them and cut off his vision. When it passed Asha was no longer standing there and the former Konoha-nin didn’t see or hear anything of him for about a year afterwards.

 

It was only when Konan had something of a new year’s party that he ran into him again. She’d invited some of her close friends from the cage-fighting community as well as a couple of the models who wore bikinis and walked around the ring to signify round changes. After making himself a drink Itachi noticed her going into her bedroom with one of the brunette models and made the decision not to go anywhere near that side of the apartment for the rest of the night.

 

Around 11:30 he noticed Asha had shown up. The silver-eyed male was in the kitchen, making what certainly appeared to be a very _very_ hard drink. It was a take on a Cuba Libre but the ratio of rum to coke was more like 5:1. Honestly, it was basically just five shots of rum and a miniature splash of coke.

 

He turned around, seeing Itachi enter, “I hate the taste of alcohol but here’s to forgetting I exist.”

 

The tone of his voice was flat, but his tense body language betrayed how on edge he felt as he faced the former Konoha-nin. Everything about how he spoke and moved his body was carefully controlled and devoid of outward expression.

 

“Is that your goal for tonight?”

 

“Basically. I’ve got something I have to do at one a.m. that I’d greatly prefer neither to be coherent for nor capable of remembering tomorrow,” he disclosed calmly, throwing back the drink in one shot and expertly tossing the cup into a nearby recycle bin.

 

That was going to hit him hard as fuck in a short period of time. If the shorter man planned on leaving then Itachi was concerned for his health, wondering what method of transportation he planned on taking.

 

“What is it you need to do that makes you so desperate to shut yourself off in this manner?”

 

A concealed flinch ran through the others body.

 

“Spy shit,” he snapped, pretty face twisting into a bitter half-smile, “you know how it is.”

 

“...do I?”

 

“I know you were a shinobi in your first life,” Asha countered.

 

That was surprising, had Konan told him?

 

“Look, Itachi,” the other began, moving to extricate himself from the quickly discomforting situation, “I appreciate the concern, but I’m dealing with a bit of a situation right now and you’re annoying prying is getting in my way. Dealing with your ridiculous intuition is frustrating and tries on my patience enough on a normal day — not that I have those any more. I need to concentrate on getting plastered at the moment so either stop asking questions or fuck off,” he spat out.

 

“Why are you being so hostile?” Itachi challenged back, brows furrowing and mouth pinching, hurt by the cutting personal attack but aware the other was simply reacting more to the situation than because he actually disliked him, “From what I understand you aren’t normally this cruel, at least you don’t intend to be. Whatever this is must be bothering you greatly, let me help you.”

 

The other male breathed in shakily and then laughed darkly, turning his back on the taller and leaning his hands against the countertop, “You’re right. You’re always _fucking right_ and _I’m sorry_ , but if you don’t leave me alone right now I’m going to start crying and I don’t think either of us want to deal with that. I loathe crying in front of other people more than you can possibly imagine and I’d especially prefer not to do so right now. Honestly, I shouldn’t have come here tonight, everything is all out of order and I’m too emotionally exhausted to keep up this farce.”

 

They were interrupted by the clock hitting midnight. Outside the little space they’d taken over for themselves in the kitchen they could hear people laughing and cheering. Someone kissed someone else and there was a chorus of congratulations. It seemed like an entirely separate happier universe existed on the other side of that peeling plaster wall.

 

Itachi waited for the ruckus to die down before continuing, “at least let me drive you to wherever it is you need to be. I’m sure you’ll need to leave soon to arrive on time and while I have no idea how you plan to get there, having five shots in you could be dangerous.”

 

No answer. That was better than a rejection at least.

 

Itachi could have asked what he meant earlier when he’d said _‘Dealing with your ridiculous intuition is frustrating and tries on my patience enough on a normal day’_ , considering he’d hinted at them having prior contact despite Itachi having no memory of that ever occurring. He could have asked about how things could be _‘out of order’_ , seeing as Konan hadn’t mentioned anything regarding that, and the way the shorter male talked about it sounded like he was referring to the possibility of timelines not following the same chronological path for every individual.

 

He didn’t though. Itachi was nothing if not incredibly attuned to people. He was sensitive and understanding of others and would hate to stir up conflict because he pushed someone farther than they felt emotionally strong enough to handle.

 

“I won’t ask any more questions if you’ll let me drive you.”

 

He might get more answers to what he was wondering if he gave the other time to come down from his worked up state.

 

“Fine,” Asha acquiesced, pouring himself another cup of rum with about two shots worth of alcohol and dranking it quickly as the other went to get his wallet and keys.

 

Each then got their coats on and Itachi slipped into his boots. Getting into the taller’s car, Asha input the address into his GPS and they drove the whole way without speaking other than a few failed attempts to get the conversation flowing on Itachi’s end. It was awkward and the former ANBU-nin kept sneaking worried glances at his passenger, wondering where he was dropping an incapacitated person off at this hour. The increasingly run-down houses along the way as they drove into worse neighborhoods wasn’t alleviating his concern in the slightest.

 

Finally, they pulled up to their final destination — a dilapidated motel which looked like it was about to be shut down for safety reasons at any moment — and Itachi put the car in park. He fully expected his passenger to simply hop out of the car and walk off into the night without a word at this point, but he didn’t.

 

Asha turned his head to look at him briefly, biting his plush bottom lip, before facing forward and slumping in the seat, resting his head in his hands as his shoulder length hair fell forward to cover his face. 

 

A quiet, “sorry,” slipped out of his clenched mouth.

 

Itachi full-body turned in his seat to give the other his complete attention. He wasn’t sure how to respond best to this unexpected concession and anticipated there was likely more coming so he waited patiently rather than pushing. It was the correct method because soon the shorter of the two was speaking again.

 

“Earlier...I shouldn’t have spoken to you so viciously. It was uncharacteristic of me and I hope you don’t take it as a reflection of my personality from here on forwards. I…am sorry for my behaviour, it is regrettable.”

 

Itachi smiled at him kindly.

 

“I appreciate your willingness to make amends and I to would like to avoid any tension between us. Don’t concern yourself over it to much, all is forgiven. I don’t usually take those types of things at face-value without considering the underlying reasons anyway. Something is obviously hurting you right now and I’m just glad there is something I can do to assist you.”

 

He shivered and curled his knees up closer to chest, “Thank you. I’m sorry. I was just so shocked earlier that I didn’t know how to respond properly. When I saw you the first time in Konan’s doorway, I could tell you didn’t know me and it,” A shaky breath, “It hurt. I mean, I knew it was coming eventually but I suppose I was hoping it wouldn’t be so soon.”

 

“We have met previously then?”

 

“I’ve met you, but you haven’t met me yet. It’s complicated and our timelines are all mixed up. It happens that way sometimes, you don’t always meet people in chronological order. I can’t say much more, there are rules about how much information I can give you. Anyway, I’d like if we could try being friends. I’m sure Konan told you, but I’m kind of on my own. You’re a kind person Itachi, you truly care about others, and there’s a shortage of people like that in existence. It would be nice to have someone I can talk to on occasion who I know won’t hurt me.”

 

Itachi gave a small soft smile and nodded, “Of course, thank you, I’d like that. Those rules you mentioned—”

 

A loud banging sound erupted a few doors down from where they were parked and the aforementioned room light flashed 3 times in quick succession, distracting them from the conversation. The shorter of the two looked up in the direction of the sound and his grey eyes flashed silver under the light of the streetlamp.

 

Asha turned to smile back at him, “Sorry Itachi, maybe next time,” and then quickly hopped out of the car, pulling his hood up and rushing fluidly over to the room where the light and sound had come from. Itachi watched perplexed from his car as he rapped on the door twice and then waited before doing so once more. After a moment the door opened just a sliver and a gloved hand reached out to grab his arm and roughly drag him in, the curtains being drawn closed tightly and the lights shutting off.

 

“That...actually is kind of annoying now that I’m on the other side. Sorry Sasuke,” he whispered to himself, now alone in the car.

 

Driving back home, he wondered what he’d just been complicit in and hoped his new friend wasn’t being hurt in that dark room. He wondered who that hand belonged to.

 

***

 

“Konan, do you know what Asha does?”

 

“I think he’s an investigative journalist in this life. Why?” She replied, putting down her book spine up in her lap, her thigh acting as a bookmark to keep from losing her page.

 

“How likely is it that he would get mixed up in something dangerous?”

 

“Oh, extremely. I don’t honestly think I’ve ever known a time when he wasn’t getting fucked over by life. Twisted fates with the worst possible endings seem to be attracted to his soul like matter is to the immense gravity of a black hole,” she swatted a bug from around her face, “or like that fly will be to our flypaper, hopefully.”

 

Itachi huffed out a laugh, Konan’s unexpected sense of humor had always amused him. She knew just how to lighten up a serious conversation without making a mockery of it..

 

“Yes, let’s hope,” Itachi continued, “You know, I thought this world was relatively peaceful but now I’m questioning whether there’s something going on behind the scenes. I saw him meeting with someone a while back and it seemed pretty suspicious. Considering the strange situation I dropped him off in the other night as well...I don’t have much information, but I know what it looks like when forces are moving in the shadows.”

 

“Hmm, you should ask him if you really want to know. It’s you so. He might answer.”

 

He looked at her curiously, “What does that mean exactly?”

 

Konan just shrugged and went back to her book.

 

A couple months later saw Asha back at their apartment, a regular event by then. Konan was out and Itachi and he were eating dinner — just something simple, rice with soup and a couple side dishes — when he broached the topic.

 

“Asha, what are you investigating?”

 

Normally they strayed away from conversations not pertaining to the philosophical, new ideas, and playful exchange of knowledge, so this sudden change from their usual to a pointed question based in harsh reality was unanticipated.

 

His spoon paused halfway to his mouth before he set it back down in his bowl. Breathing out harshly, his silver eyes flicked towards the window and his face pinched.

 

“Must you know?”

 

“I’m concerned for your welfare.”

 

“No point to that. It’s not like they can do anything to me that hasn’t already been done at least once.”

 

Itachi frowned, a crease forming between his delicate eyebrows.

 

“That...is that meant to be reassuring? Because that does not make me feel better at all.”

 

Asha put his elbows on the table and leaned towards Itachi, lacing his fingers and placing them such that they shielded the view of his mouth as he looked at him intensely.

 

“What happens to me isn’t important. I’m attempting to expose a large-scale government corruption to the public. I have to get the truth out before it’s too late to stop what they’re planning. This knowledge must be shared, at any cost.”

 

The taller of the two sighed, his obsidian eyes glinted from the light of the sunset entering through the window beside them as he leaned forward, “What are they planning and _equally as importantly_ , what happens if they find out what you’re doing? Will they hurt you over it? Kill you?”

 

“There’s a conspiracy to put someone in charge who is essentially a puppet for those who wish to create war and chaos,” he said, a frantic lilt to his quiet voice, “They want to put in place a new system without a true democracy, one where the ultra rich control everything and use everyone else as if they’re dispensable tools, as if they’re mindless pawns merely to further their own interests. I’ve seen this type of thing before and I won’t stand by and let it come to fruition.”

 

Asha moved his hands down, unblocking his face and bringing them to his lap as he sat back in his chair. The shadows created by the setting sun filtered across his face and cast a darkness across his eyes.

 

“And _much less importantly_ , I don’t care what happens to me. They can hurt me if they want to. But I will achieve this goal, even if it kills me. This time I will _not_ fail.”

 

Itachi leaned back in his chair as well, food forgotten for now. This was serious, painfully so.

 

“I care. I can see how important this is to you and I admire you for your bravery, but please, don’t get reckless. You have no idea how badly this can end.”

 

A silence stretched as they continued to look at each other for a moment, everything still save for their now rapidly beating hearts. When the moment stretched on too long, thin shadows of the trees outside crawling over the room, Asha broke their staring contest and stood to take his dishes to the kitchen. Itachi stood next, hovering in the kitchen entry as he watched the shorter man wash them and then move to the door, lacing up his boots over his ripped jeans. The tension was palpable and disquieting, leaving both feeling restless and unsure how to fix things.

 

The room was cloaked in the darkness characteristic of a late summer evening. As the weather was warm now, there was no no need for a coat, and so grabbing the only item which had been brought with him — his worn leather bag, it was looking worse for wear these days — Asha opened the door and moved to step out.

 

“Asha—”

 

“I make no promises,” he declared softly, shutting the door behind him nearly soundlessly as he left.

 

***

 

Time passed and things continued to move forward.

 

Asha worked his way deeper into the network he was investigating, going undercover deep enough that Konan and Itachi rarely saw him anymore. When Itachi did see him they barely talked. Both of them had grown close as friends and needed someone to blow off steam with so they’d taken to sleeping together. Romantically, Itachi wasn’t ready for a new relationship yet but he enjoyed their friends with benefits situation. It offered them both relief and the sex was good enough that it was one of the few things in existence that enabled each of them to shut off their overactive minds for at least a few minutes post orgasm, leaving them in a peaceful and relaxed state of existence.

 

He wasn’t sure how the other felt, but it was portrayed as if they were on the same page and the taller of the two didn’t look too much further into it at first out of respect for Asha’s privacy. If the shorter male wanted to reveal something to him or not, that was up to his own discretion. As such, they were extremely compatible on a physical level and he was content to leave things as they were.  

 

However, things started to change.

 

Sometimes when they were together Itachi noticed bruises on his body — he had bite marks dotting his collarbones, bruises in the shape of fingers in his hips, and his ass was looser than it would be if he hadn’t had sex recently. On the rare occasions Asha would top, he was more aggressive than he’d been originally, and regardless of their sexual position the younger never wanted to stay long afterwards. Itachi started to wonder what had changed, if the shorter of the two was ok. Though Asha gave nothing away, Itachi even started to wonder if feelings beyond the platonic had developed and if Asha was running from them. If they had, the former Konoha-nin would rather talk about it and work things out then continue on in this way when it could be hurting someone he cared for.

 

Unfortunately, getting the silver-eyed male to do anything his mind was set against, like discussing his emotions, was nearly as impossible as getting Sasuke to renounce vengeance. His psychological walls were impenetrable when he wanted them to be.

 

They weren’t exclusive so no jealousy was involved but there was an element of curiosity and concern for his friend. When asked about it he told Itachi, “I’m getting close to the top. I’ll have everything I need soon,” and that would be the end of that conversation as Asha refused to discuss it any further.

 

As the marks littering his friends body grew in their violence and frequency, the taller man grew increasingly anxious and troubled by his friend’s situation, yet knew there was no stopping him. He was single minded in the pursuit of his aforementioned goal to expose the truth, and so this was how another year came to pass in a tense and vexing manner.

 

That is, until Deidara showed up at Konan’s door, changing everything.

 

It was autumn — the kind of autumn which frosted early and left the trees leafless, the ground covered in thin a crunchy brown layer, the typical _redorangeyellow_ colors long gone. Itachi lamented the fact that the beauty of this season had barely lasted, but he was sure Deidara had waxed poetically to anyone who’d listen about how art should be in existence only for a brief moment to truly be appreciated.

 

He looked just at Itachi remembered him, with his long hair down in a low ponytail rather than half up like he would put it when out on missions.

 

“Oh, well this is certainly unexpected,” the blonde marveled, smirking slightly as moved to lean against the doorframe, “When Konan tracked me down and told me to drop by I was surprised enough, but I certainly hadn’t expected to see your fucking face. Of all people, honestly.”

 

The blonde pushed past him into the house and Itachi let him move freely. This occurrence was slightly less unexpected for Itachi since Konan had told him it was likely they’d meet in this lifetime.

 

“I take it you still hate me then?”

 

“Hate you? No, I just think you’re a ridiculously frustrating bastard with a pretty face and no emotions. At least you don’t have those damn eyes this time, yeah. That’s nice, I suppose.”

 

“Yes, I’m quite happy not to have them either. Deidara, you do realize that was a mask I wore for survival purposes only? I am only human, of course I have emotions. Also,” Itachi titled his head to the side and smiled playfully as he watched the other wander about the room, “you find me attractive?”

 

“Ha!” the blonde exclaimed, “Obviously, I’m not blind. I can recognize art when I see it, even if it annoys the shit out of me.”

 

As the younger continued to explore the room he started noticing some things. One, it looked like two people lived here. Two, it seemed Itachi was one of them. Three, ugh. That meant every time he wanted to visit Konan he’d have to spend time in his presence.

 

“Konan made it seem like she lived alone. It would have been nice to have some forewarning you’d be here.”

 

“We’re roommates.”

 

“Yes, clearly,” he said, annoyed, “that’s very helpful, Itachi, thanks for the rundown. It’s not like I have my own fucking eyes or anything. Do you think I’m an idiot?”

 

“Hardly. I always thought you were more intelligent than you let off.”

 

Not expecting this response, the blonde stopped rummaging around and paused to look in his direction, cocking his head to the side.

 

“Is that so?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

 

“I am aware you did most of the seduction missions requiring a male while in Akatsuki. I think we both know what kind of shinobi it takes to be capable of completing those successfully.”

 

The younger man glared.

 

“You weren’t supposed to have any knowledge about those.”

 

“I assure you, I found out by accident. It was not my intention to violate your privacy, nor Konan’s for that matter.”

 

A phone started ringing and Deidara reached into his back pocket to pull his cell out. His face shuttered upon answering it and he turned his back to Itachi, effectively controlling what the other saw of his emotional state. After muttering a few quick ‘fine’s in an agitated voice, the blonde hung up and turned back around.

 

His shirt sleeve rode up and revealed a bruise around his wrist briefly before Deidara fixed it.

 

“That was Sasori, I have to go. Tell her I stopped by.”

 

Walking gracefully towards the door he threw over his shoulder, “I’ll probably be back at some point,” before exiting and slamming the door closed a little harder than needed.

 

***

 

The redhead slapped him, hard enough for his head to snap to the side and a gasp to leave his lips, pushing the blonde until his back hit the wall.

 

“How can you betray me like this? I don’t expect much from you Deidara, but disloyalty is unforgivable.”

 

His voice was cold, eyes even colder — so cold it made Deidara feel like they were burning him from the inside out, like he was getting gut-punched, and his chest ripped out.

 

“You know how much I love you Sasori, please, don’t be hurt by this. I didn’t mean —”  

 

“I can’t believe you’re this idiotic,” he spat, “You understand nothing about me! After all these years and I’m still going through this alone.”

 

Those words hurt to hear. Seeing Sasori this upset ripped his heart out of his chest, metaphorically speaking.

 

The elder artist jerked himself away, moving to the farthest corner of the room away from his lover and curling inwards. Deidara knew how sensitive he was about betrayal and he was so careful not to make the redhead feel abandoned, but it was like everything he did was always misconstrued. Going to see Konan had been a mistake. It was difficult to understand why he was reacting to it the way he was, but the blonde knew the elder had experienced such a twisted childhood in Suna that his perception of events was unusual.

 

It wasn’t Sasori’s fault though, his mind had been warped by others. If the fact that the older man had carved his own body up wasn’t an obvious sign of how badly he’d been screwed up by the practices of the historically brutal and harsh desert village then Deidara didn’t know what was. Being a passionate artist himself, the blonde knew how destructive war and loss could be on the psyche of an emotionally sensitized individual. Being surrounded by constant negativity and distress within the home environment had a caustic effect on people like them, it had the power to distort both their internal perception of self and their external perception of events.

 

They’d both been happy and caring children, though Sasori was introverted where Deidara was an extrovert. All either had wanted was to be loved and allowed to express themselves using the artform of their choice. However, being born ninja flipped everything upside down, shattering their realities and turning their self-expression into tools of assassination. Art was supposed to be a positive outlet, but in the world of ninja it became dangerous when you were gifted with creative talent.

 

Sasori had missed his parents who were snatched away by death, he wanted them back, so as a prodigy of puppetry and sculpture he made puppets in their image. What had started as an innocent method of coping with grief became a source of violence and bloodshed, drawing him forcefully into a life of continuous hardship and emotional trauma.

 

It hadn’t helped the issue when the redhead’s grandmother, his only living family member, couldn’t look at him without remembering the grief of losing both his parents at the same time and therefore avoided him when Sasori had needed her the most. The child was lost without any care or love in the world and grew to hate his own emotions. Though he tried shutting them off, his personality wasn’t suited to such a thing, and out of frustration the man had resorted to destroying every other human aspect of himself as possible instead. It wasn’t until he died and was fully formed into a puppet without a soul that he’d reached his goal.

 

This ‘rebirth with memories attached’ situation destroyed even that.

 

Both of them had been reborn into this life directly after dying as rogue nin and once they each began to remember, all the wounds delivered by that world of shadows felt so fresh it was like they’d been experienced just yesterday. Deidara’s dreams had started when he was sixteen and by then he’d grown up for many years with a supportive and encouraging family, allowing him to gain healthy coping mechanisms. The blonde had managed to escape from the pit of insanity he’d fallen into in his previous life.

 

However, Sasori wasn’t so lucky. He was born to a drug-addicted prostitute and had the misfortune of getting sexually abused by both his mother and her customers. It wasn’t a safe environment. On top of that, his mother was both physically and emotionally unavailable, robbing the child of a loving childhood for the second time. She often left him for hours alone, sometimes days even went by, and he went hungry many times. It became hard to tell whether it was better when she was there or when she wasn’t. Neither was particularly pleasant. As he began to regain the knowledge of his last life, the impact of his current one only served to worsen the mental damage.

 

When Deidara was fifteen he had met Sasori, aged seventeen at the time, before either had started regaining their memories. As they both still had an affinity for art in this life, they’d ending up attending the same inner city high school for the arts. While the blonde concentrated in clay and pottery, the redhead focused in woodwork and carving, but since both pathways were under the umbrella of sculpture the boys had run into each other frequently. Sasori was aromantic and on the grey scale as far as sexuality goes, so they’d just been friends at first. However, as each started to remember and as the redhead sank bank further into mental instability and lost his grip on reality, they had fallen into a relationship.

 

It was for comfort at first, since the two existed in their own private world and no one could understand them better than each other, but a strong bond grew and connected them together over time.

 

It would have been fine, everything would have been ok, Deidara tells himself. If only Sasori had gotten help, maybe talked to someone about the pain in his heart, then the impending implosion of their relationship could have been avoided. As it was, the redhead was being slowly swallowed by the darkness of his own mind and Deidara couldn’t save him.

 

Nor could he save himself it seemed, as the blonde was too afraid of letting him go that he was being tugged down with him instead. In trying to keep them both afloat, he was failing and watching their little safehaven destruct. They were like a two-man boat adrift at sea that had a sprung a leak. No matter how desperately Deidara tried, the bucket he was using to try and remove the increasing water was too small to keep up, and Sasori had long given up. They’d drown soon, he was sure, but it was too late to get off the boat now. They were going to die together and he could only hope the next life would be better.

 

Maybe he’d be able to save Sasori the next time around.

 

***

 

“If I remember correctly you aren’t into S&M,” Itachi recounted.

 

The blonde looked up from his position lying on Konan’s couch. Sasori had been upset for a while but he’d finally managed to convince him there was no chance the blonde would simply abandon him just because he made other friends.

 

“Yea, I suppose I did say that. Why do you ask? Are _you_ into S&M Itachi?”

 

“No, although I’m not opposed to being choked.”

 

Deidara sputtered, face turning a reddish hue, and nearly fell off the couch.

 

“ _What?!_ ”

 

“Actually,” the black-haired male continued, as if he’d said nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever, “the reason I’m asking is because I saw the bruises on your wrist a few weeks ago. I was concerned but didn’t mention it at first because you seemed emotionally distressed at the time, but now that we’ve grown closer as friends I feel like I should ask you about them.”

 

The rapid change in conversation and severity of topic left Deidara’s head spinning.

 

“You’re saying that like you’ve really thought this out, but that was by no means a tactful transition into asking someone if they’re being abused.”

 

Itachi paused, titling his head cutely. He thought the former rogue-nin would have appreciated the direct approach.

 

“Well, are you?”

 

“Damn it, Itachi! What the hell, man?”

 

Definitely avoiding the question. Well, if the blonde wasn’t going to answer then he wasn’t about to force it out of him. The elder can just stare at him calmly until he decides to either explain or gets uncomfortable and leaves. That usually works.

 

“Fucking fine, you win,” the blonde exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air, exasperated, “It’s not abuse though, he doesn’t mean it,” he emphasized, rolling his azure eyes.

 

The former Konoha-nin stared at him dubiously. That sounded like a pretty classic excuse for domestic partner abuse. Itachi was loathe to jump to conclusions though, he’d be interested to hear more from the blonde about the situation in greater detail.

 

“You are dating Sasori, correct?”

 

What Itachi remembered of the redhead he hadn’t outright disliked, but there was always something a little off about him. Though, not necessarily in a bad way, it was more so that he just wasn’t quite tethered to reality. Itachi felt bad for him more than anything, his backstory had been one which Itachi related to in some ways. The redhead’s demeanor wasn’t all that unlike his own either, and he had been easier to talk to then most of the other Akatsuki members.

 

“I know what this might sound like but he’s really not hurting me like that. The bruises were from when I startled him. I shouldn’t be telling you this since it’s not my story to tell, but if it’ll get you off his back about this then I guess I will. You better reserve your judgement and not say a goddamn thing to anyone about this, hmph.”

 

Flicking his hair back and standing up, Deidara moved to nonchalantly sit in a chair at the kitchen table. He turned it sideways and kicked his legs up on the arm of the couch, which wasn’t that far away since their apartment was quite small.

 

Turning his head to the side to look at Itachi, he continued, “You and I have lived pretty privileged lives this time around, considering. Not everyone has been afforded that luxury. Sasori had a fucked up childhood in Suna and this one has been even worse. It happened one day when he was bottoming for me, as usual, and—”

 

“You top?” Itachi interrupted, perplexed.

 

“First of all _fuck you_ ,” Deidara glared, “Second of all. Fuck. You. _Asshole_. I’m a great top, I could top the fuck out of you if I wanted to.”

 

Itachi blinked, moving his hand up to rest his face in his palm in a mediocre effort to hide the light pink blush spreading across his cheeks. Not that he was especially trying to suppress his emotions in any way, that wasn’t something he had any real desire to continue past his time as a shinobi.

 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. Forgive me, please do continue,” he encouraged, not commenting on the second point Deidara had made.

 

“Tch, fine. As I was saying, he was bottoming and like, really into it — I can tell because he always makes these cute little breathy sounds and squirms around like he can’t take how good it feels — but then I accidentally triggered him and he went all badass cold-blooded assassin on me. That’s why I had the bruises. He’s got like PTSD and shit from getting sexually abused as a child,” he finished, staring at Itachi’s face to see how he’d react.

 

The elder’s face crumpled and he clutched at his mug tightly, not having expected that. He hated that things like that happened to people. Being as empathetic as he was, hearing about another’s suffering — especially when it was someone he knew — triggered a deeply emotional response in him, like being stabbed in the heart.

 

Seeing this, Deidara acquiesced and decided to reveal more. Perhaps Itachi would have some advise on how he could help Sasori.

 

“I’m doing my best to help him but he won’t help himself. He’s not right in the head, Itachi, hasn’t been since our first life. As a fellow artist and his partner it hurts to see, but I’m not sure what else I can do for him. I don’t know how to salvage this situation. I feel like he’s drowning in his pain and I’m going down with him because I can’t figure out how to save his life.”

 

The blonde licked his lips and turned in his chair to look directly at the other man, “What should I do?” he asked seriously.

 

“If he won’t see a mental health professional there may be very little you can do. He has to want to get better for himself, and with severe PTSD it typically requires some level of counseling and possibly medication. If he’s refusing then...all you can really do is try to be there for him. Try to figure out what his triggers are so you can avoid them and offer support where he feels comfortable taking it.”

 

Deidara nodded, unusually quiet.

 

“Hmm, I guess that’s all I can do then. I’ll just have to give it my best,” he agreed, a determined look on his face.

 

“Don’t take this all on yourself. Not everyone can be saved, Deidara, especially if they're rejecting help.”

 

He sighed.

 

“I know. I love him, but I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> btw, if you haven't noticed, I reference the hell out of some Naruto: Shippūden moments. I mean, you don't have to have watched it, but just so you know I am referencing things that legit happened in canon. For example: Sasori's backstory, Itachi vs Kabuto arc, history of Akatsuki arc, Itachi's backstory with Shisui, and so on.


	3. Marigold Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love blooms, and love withers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings in addition to the overarching story warnings: suicide, briefly mentioned drug abuse, sort of dub con
> 
> This was originally meant to be a part of the last chapter but I wrote too much and couldn't fit it all into one lol!
> 
> Lifetimes:   
> Itachi: 3  
> Konan: 6  
> Deidara: 2  
> Asha: 4  
> Sasori: 2

Itachi sipped at his chrysanthemum tea, enjoying the light earthy floral flavor and the warmth as it seeped through the cup and into his palms. A warm breeze blew through the open windows of the tea shop he and Deidara frequented, bringing with it the calming scents of Spring. They’d chosen to sit in one of the little alcoves the shop offered, comfortably resting on the pillow seats and using the low floor table to hold their teapot and snacks, which they’d ordered at the counter earlier. Children’s laughter rang out from the street and wind chimes sung softly, swaying. 

 

Lifetimes ago, if you’d told either of them that they’d eventually reach a point of basking in each other’s company and delighting in afternoon tea together as friends it would’ve been shocking. Neither would have believed you for even a moment, and yet, here they were. Despite their significant differences in personality, they found conversation interesting. Perhaps they were merely intrigued by how opposite they were at first, their interactions playful and filled with intriguing banter, but now there was a true friendship. 

 

Each had some level of trust built up for the other and they’d become used to spending time together. It had become such a routine for them now that if they missed their weekly scheduled teatime it left both of them feeling off.

 

The latest art installations, Deidara’s senior project for his BFA, and Itachi’s recent ideas for his PhD thesis on biomedical technology had become typical conversation topics for the pair. Sometimes they even discussed how Sasori was doing, although the older male avoided asking about this topic too frequently since it never failed to make the blonde distraught. The redhead wasn’t doing so well, after all. A period of time had gone by where his mental health had seemed on the path to becoming better and they’d each gotten their hopes up, but Sasori had relapsed and rapidly declined into a state worse than before.

 

Seeing how lost his partner was, the blonde tried to help but was often pushed away, and eventually he started spending more time with Itachi and Konan than he did at home with the redhead. Due to all of this and not wanting to stray into emotionally difficult areas of conversation, Itachi would do his best to steer their discussions away from anything distinctly Sasori related.

 

Today, however, was a bit unusual as Deidara had started talking about his partner on his own.

 

“He’s been withdrawing from me lately,” the blonde started, “more than before, I mean. I don’t know, man. I hate to say it but I feel like Sasori’s barely alive. He’s existing on the physical plane but he vacillates between catatonic and ‘normal’ Sasori, and when he’s ‘normal’ he always turns to using. It’s like all he can think about is how to get whichever drugs will fuck him up the most.”

 

The blonde took a sip of his tea, eyes pinching in thought.

 

“Even in bed it’s like he’s just lying there and taking it. Whether I’m topping or riding him, it’s still basically like I’m just using a sex toy instead of fucking a real person. I hate it! Sex should be passionate! It should be a single beautiful moment in time that you can never return to, a shared moment between two people of absolutely unimaginable pleasure and connection!” the blonde exclaimed, hands animated.

 

He dropped his hands and stared downhearted at the table between them, “But he’s just like...a doll or...” he shuddered, “a puppet, I guess. I don’t think he’s even seeing me.”

 

“How long have you two been together?” Itachi questioned, “As far back as the Akatsuki?”

 

“Nah, only in this life. He didn’t even have parts back then, if you know what I mean. He’d turned too much of himself into a puppet by that point.”

 

The elder’s lips parted slightly — his version of a jaw drop — as he blinked quickly and looked away.

 

“Oh. Oh, I didn’t know that…” he trailed off, voice shocked into a murmur.

 

“Yea, I mean I don’t think it bothered him too much. ‘Sori’s on the greyscale so he doesn’t actually consider that a loss, per say. I’m pretty sure I’m literally the only person he’s been in a relationship with, like ever.”

 

Itachi poured them both another cup of tea, inhaling it gently as he considered what he could do to help.

 

“What happened to that psychiatrist he was seeing?” he inquired.

 

Deidara pinched his nose bridge and then ran his hand down his face in frustrated worry.

 

“He only went to her twice and then refused to continue.”

 

A trained professional really was the most likely to be capable of helping him. Chances of successfully healing and finding good coping mechanisms without accepting outside help were minimal. 

 

“If it’s as you say and he doesn’t normally involve himself with people then maybe he can’t handle a relationship right now? He’s in such a fragile state of mind to begin with and that added pressure of being with someone could be tipping him over the edge,” Itachi speculated.

 

“You might be right, yeah. I’ll see if I can get him to talk to me about it, though he rarely speaks at all these days. I’d really hate if I was the reason he’s slipping further though,” the blonde said, slumping down over the table and releasing a heavy sigh.

 

“That would probably be for the best. How healthy of a relationship was this truly? Even from the beginning, you said he was dealing with many painful memories and struggling with his mental state. Sasori may not be capable of accepting either love or affection in his current condition.”

 

Deidara nodded and they both sat in contemplative silence as their cups were drained. The silence wasn’t strained, but there was an air of tension and desperation surrounding them as they realized the futility of their situation. 

 

Nothing moved save for their hair in the breeze. 

 

A bird caught a worm outside the window and was devouring it.

 

A mother with a baby stroller rolled by, the wheels clicking against the sidewalk.

 

Suddenly, the stillness was broken by a car horn blaring loudly as a bicyclist crossed into it’s line. The sound shattered the quiet and caused each man to jump slightly.

 

The moment had passed and the blonde pushed both wrists into his eye sockets, rubbing, and gravity causing his long bangs to pool around his elbows atop the table.

 

“I just wish I could have done more to help him.”

 

***

 

It was a typical Friday night in the former Akatsuki-nins household.

 

The two roommates and their blonde counterpart liked to have game nights on occasion, typically on Fridays or Saturdays, and tonight was one of those nights. They’d put out various snacks — like popcorn, daifuku, chips, and fruit — and choose a couple game options. Poker, Catan, Takenoko, Hanabi, and Scrabble were common choices, as well as various games of strategy. It was a great way to release some stress and tension at the end of a particularly difficult week while enjoying the company of close trusted friends. Nothing else needed to matter in those moments and they did their best to shut out the external world. The number one rule was: No emails, no assignments, no work.

 

Deidara usually lost most of the games, not because he wasn’t intelligent but simply because his type of intelligence was better suited to creative pursuits. Strategic games and deception games like Poker were usually won by Itachi, while Konan almost always bested them at Scrabble. The other games were more up for grabs. 

 

To appease the more creatively minded person in the room, they would sometimes change out game nights for craft nights. Being an artist herself, Konan enjoyed leading nights on origami and paper crafts, while the blonde would help organize and instruct them on a variety of other artistic endeavors. Tonight in particular, they were working with his favorite medium, clay. The project they were aspiring to complete was not a difficult one, but some techniques did need to be applied and so he made sure to carefully explain and set up all the necessary tools. 

 

“Ok, so these mugs are going to be essentially the most basic type you can make. The only difference will be the facial features you add and if you decide to add a handle. Making the eyes, nose, and lips aren’t all that difficult but the handle can be tricky. Make sure to let me know if you’re having any trouble, yeah?”

 

Itachi raised his hand.

 

“We just need to make sure we score the edges where two pieces are attaching together and then use the clay and water solution as a binding agent, correct?” 

 

“Yep,” the youngest group member nodded excitedly.

 

“Then once everyone is done I’ll take them with me to fire in the kiln at school. We’ll be glazing and re-firing them on a separate night,” he explained.

 

“Also, I have the finished clay projects we worked on last time. I’ll hand them back to everyone today when we’re done.”

 

Once everyone was situated and there were no further questions, Deidara bounded over to the computer with a large smile stretched across his face and turned up the volume on their music playlist. He was dancing along with the music while they worked and Itachi had never seen him happier than in these moments. Expressing himself with art was what the blonde lived for, it seemed.

 

The raven-haired male thought it was both adorable and incredibly attractive. Seeing someone in their element and being truly free with themselves was inspiring and he aimed to one day be capable of the same. 

 

Over time Itachi had noticed his increased interest with the other, being drawn to his free spirit and confidence. While he could have shut himself down and tried to ignore those feelings, he made a great effort to do the exact opposite. Taking a page out of the blonde’s book, he decided to follow what his heart wanted and not deny his feelings out of fear. 

 

In the past he had hated the potential conflict which could arise and the thought of losing good friendships because of pushing past the line of friend into lover. He didn’t want to fear that anymore. This time he’d rather make a departure from the usual. He’d decided to allow his feelings to persist and go with the flow wherever they led him. If the younger man wasn’t interested in that way then it was no problem and they’d remain friends, but if he started reciprocating Itachi’s feelings...who knows where they could end up.

 

As each of them finished up their sculpture for the night Itachi was still thinking about the blonde. Sasori had been out of the picture for a few weeks now due to his mental illness and Deidara was single, so he didn’t have to worry about that aspect. While both of them were worried about the redhead, they hoped he was doing better now that the pressure of a relationship had been removed. From the occasional text Sasori sent Deidara, it seemed he was revisiting his therapy and starting to accept the fact that he needed help.

 

This left them both feeling freer and the blonde feeling more able to concentrate on building healthier happier relationships with other people. Although Itachi wasn’t aware of it, he’d been growing more interested in the potential their close friendship had as well. If the older male didn’t make a move soon, Deidara was absolutely planning on doing so.

 

Now eleven at night, they’d finished and were putting away the tools they’d used. After cleaning everything fully, the blonde reached for the box he’d brought over of their completed works.

 

“Itachi,” he called out while picking out a bowl with an intricately patterned design, “this one’s yours.”

 

The older man took it gently from his hands and smiled, “It’s beautiful, thank you for helping me make it.”

 

Deidara grinned back and patted him on the shoulder, “You have potential, I guess there’s a little bit of an artist hidden inside that serious shell after all!”

 

Konan warmly appraised them in a knowing manner for a moment before going over to pick her creation out of the box. She’d made something with a delicate and minimal floral design and was content with how it turned out. Seeing another bowl besides hers within the box reminded her that they’d had another person with them for that craft night. Picking it up, she held it in her hands for a moment and tried to understand the emotions that went into this creation.

 

It was dark and there was something sad and foreboding about the design. The entirety of the bowl was a pure midnight black glaze at it’s base. On top of that there were thick abstract brush strokes used to apply a mixture of colors around the outer portion. Something about the combination of colors evoked emotional pain and belayed the internal state of the creator. Caught up in the emotional depth of this piece, she ended up staring at it in stunned silence for a few minutes.

 

She was only jolted out of her staring contest with the sculpture when she realized the two other occupants of the room were staring at her. She’d been silent and unmoving for too long and they’d become concerned.

 

Deidara walked to her side and looked over her shoulder at the piece, “Ah, that’s Asha’s. Kind of concerning isn’t it?”

 

His appraising artist’s eye was able to quickly and clearly pick up on the same undertones that she had.

 

“Mm,” the older woman agreed with him, “And he hasn’t been coming by lately. He only joins us occasionally for game — or craft — night and when he is here he seems somewhat...removed? Distant?”

 

“Do you think he’s doing ok?” Itachi pitched in, a look of worry flashing across his face.

 

“I don’t know, you see him the most often Itachi. Have you been able to pick up on anything?” Konan asked, still holding the bowl as she turned to face him.

 

They were all staring at the bowl now.

 

Konan flicked her eyes up to pierce into Itachi’s as he thought seriously about the question. Looking back on their time together, there had been some indication that Asha had been slipping further away from them and that something was concerning him deeply. He had seemed off, but upon questioning he’d always deflected Itachi expertly. The older male didn’t want to think he’d been neglecting his friend, but it’s true that he hadn’t continued pushing as far as perhaps he should have on the matter.

 

“There might be a problem. He won’t discuss anything with me like he used to though, he’s been increasingly guarded the past few years. I’ll see what I can pull out of him the next time we have contact,” he reassured.

 

“Please do,” she entreated.

 

“Yea, Itachi, you should do that,” the blonde urged, “I feel like he’s crying out through his art everytime we do craft night. It’s getting a bit concerning.”   

 

***

 

Asha and Itachi didn’t meet that frequently for sex anymore, but tonight that was exactly what they were doing. Or, it was what they had just finished doing.

 

Itachi’s cock pulled out quickly, the head popping out after catching on the rim momentarily. Asha shivered and stared blankly at the ceiling as he let his limbs collapse lifelessly back on the bed. The taller male had fallen softly in the bed next to him and pulled the sheets up to cover both their waists. Usually they’d lie there and bask in the tingling warmth that lingered in their bodies, like a residue of their earlier actions. But not tonight. 

 

Asha couldn’t handle this anymore. 

 

He sat up and leaned forward, hugging his knees as he hovered near the edge of the bed. The physical distance he forced between them was but an extension of the barrier he was placing on an emotional level. He’d seen the end coming for some time now, but didn’t want to look. Could hardly bare to acknowledge its existence. 

 

“Everyone’s worried about you,” Itachi said softly. 

 

He paused, waiting for an answer. Upon realizing the other man wasn’t going to respond he continued, “I’ll give you the respect you deserve and come right out with it, rather than trying to pry information out of you subtly. You’ve gotten too deep, haven’t you? You’ve lost yourself to this self-imposed mission and you can’t find your way back.”

 

“And if I have?” he challenged, “what do you plan on doing about it?”

 

“You’re one of my closest friends Asha, though we’ve grown further apart in the last two years, I still care about you. I want to help you get out, please—”

 

“Let’s stop meeting like this.”

 

The were both frozen in their positions, goosebumps beginning to form from the cold touch of the bedroom’s air conditioning on their unclothed bodies.  

 

“Why?” Itachi asked, tilting his head quizzically as he too sat upright.

 

The other male sighed heavily and stood to gather his clothes.

 

“You’re in love with someone. Obviously so. We were only together to satisfy physical needs, we used each other to fill an emotional — and yes, literal — hole, there’s no point in continuing on when you’ve found someone.”

 

“Don’t do this. I know what you’re doing, so please stop trying to escape this conversation. Besides, I never thought of this as us just using each other. You know that, that isn’t what we are. Stop trying to distance yourself from the people who care about you,” he pleaded.

 

“Also, what makes you think I’m in love?” Itachi asked.

 

“Oh,  _ come on _ . I’m not fucking blind Itachi. You know why just as well as I do. And if you don’t then you need to reexamine yourself and your behaviour,” he said, as he finished tugging on his pants. 

 

Sitting down in the chair across from the bed to quickly pull on his socks and shoes, he continued, “Look, it’s no problem, this was never anything with strings attached.”

 

Itachi frowned, “You’re still diverting attention away from the point of this conversation. Please stop and consider—”

 

“Listen, as someone who greatly values your friendship,” Asha said, smiling softly and getting up to place a hand on Itachi’s bed-sheet covered knee, “I just want you to be happy. It’s clear there’s mutual interest so there’s no reason in this lifetime for you to ignore it.”  

 

Finished dressing now, the shorter male stood once again to head for the door.

 

“Asha, listen to me please,” Itachi said, following him, “you’re not wrong about Deidara and I but that’s not the conversation I’m trying to have with you right now. I want to know what’s going on with you. You’re clearly not ok and as your friend I should have done something about it sooner. I am sorry for that but please, this is going to kill you!”

 

Now at the entrance to the apartment, Asha uncharacteristically yanked the door open. 

 

“Good! Let’s hope I don’t fucking come back another time,” he growled and then exited, slamming the door in Itachi’s face before he could stop him.

 

“Fuck,” Itachi shouted quietly to himself, lightly slapping the door with his palm.

 

_ Fuck. _

 

That hadn’t gone even remotely the way he’d wanted.

 

***

 

_ What the fuck had he been thinking? _

 

What had Sasori been thinking this whole damn time? That’s what everyone desperately wanted to know. Sasori had left no note, no trace, nothing. His apartment was empty, like he’d cleaned it out and sold everything in preparation. He must have thought about it a lot because this was obviously not a split second decision. Everything was just gone, already dealt with, like he’d been erasing every trace of himself left on this planet before departing from it. 

 

He was just  _ gone _ , a physical form left behind but even that was decaying and would soon be gone completely with time.

 

Why hadn’t the redhead reached out if he was feeling this way? Deidara had thought he was seeing the therapist. He’d seemed happier. And yet...he left them and departed on his own, leaving nothing but questions. Questions, of that they had a plethora of. 

 

What happened?

 

What changed?

 

Why did he come to this decision?

 

How long had he been planning this?

 

Although everyone knew the redhead hadn’t been completely mentally healthy, and maybe they should have considered this possible outcome, no one had expected it. Perhaps they hadn’t wanted to consider it, fearing that just the thought alone could birth it into the universe. If they thought he could do it then maybe he could. So no one wanted to let the idea enter their mind, but it hadn’t mattered because the redhead had taken this action regardless. Sasori had chosen this path and there was nothing they could do about it.

 

Nothing said, no cries for help.

 

Nothing left behind. 

 

Nothing they could do now.

 

Nothing. Nothing.  _ Nothing! _

 

It was unthinkable. It happened anyway. Deidara couldn’t fucking believe it, he was in shock. He’d known people who died before, of course he had, he’d been a shinobi. This was different somehow, and he couldn’t stop crying. He cried for a week. Life was short and that’s what made it beautiful, he thought. Humans were like fireworks, intense life energy compacted into but a short moment of time. 

 

It got him thinking about his current relationships with people. He couldn’t be wasting time when anyone could be lost at any moment. The people he cared most about may not be with him tomorrow and he had no control over that. He needed Itachi to know he loved him, the idea of him not knowing before either of them were swept away by the tides of death clenched at his heart tightly. 

 

Though they’d reincarnate, there was no knowing when or whether their timelines would cross. It could be decades, it could be centuries. Now or never, he thought.

 

New year’s eve was quick approaching and the blonde had made his decision. That was the moment, that night he’d start pursuing in earnest. If Itachi wasn’t aware of his interest before then, he would damn well be aware of it before the night was over.

 

It was eight right now and everyone was either already eating or making their dinner from the buffet style setup Konan had prepared in the kitchen.

 

“Hey, beautiful, what are you making there?” he questioned, leaning on his elbow and smiling at Itachi from across the kitchen bar.

 

The older male looked up at him and blinked, caught unawares by the change of tone from how Deidara usually spoke with him. His surprise must have been noticeable because the younger laughed lightly, his eyes crinkling.

 

“It’s nachos?” Itachi replied.

 

“That’s innovative, considering it was originally meant to be two separate dishes of chilli and an appetizer of chips plus queso or guacamole. Nachos looks really good though! I want to try it that way now to. Man, your mind always goes interesting places,” he complimented.

 

Itachi blushed, not used to how forward he was being.

 

“Do...would you like me to make you one as well?”

 

“Absolutely!”

 

An hour and a half later and Deidara was dancing to the music which had been put on. He wasn’t sure if Itachi would be the type who’d like dancing, but he was pleasantly surprised. They weren’t together at first, each separately moving to the music in relatively unsuggestive manners, just enjoying the beat. 

 

The blonde slowly inched closer though, until he’d completely invaded the quieter man’s space. He’d made sure to inconspicuously edge them closer to the darkest corner of the room, near the window where the city lights were shining brightly in the distance. If Itachi had noticed, either that two of them had grown closer or that their placement in the room was growing increasingly more private, he didn’t say anything or take any action to stop it.

 

When the blonde pushed up against him and placed a hand carefully at his waist, he didn’t even jump, like he was expecting it. Deidara grinned.

 

They were practically grinding face-to-face and each of their faces were flushed. Itachi’s eyes had closed to half-mast, making them seem dark and intense, and he wasn’t completely flaccid. Neither was Deidara, to be honest, and when he ground them together the older man gasped and his lips parted. 

 

Nothing concrete had been said between them yet so the artist didn’t want to push things too far too fast, so despite how badly he wanted to kiss him he refrained. He pulled back some after the grinding tease and while they continued dancing somewhat suggestively, there was a little more space between them.

 

The night pushed on, now reaching close to midnight, and everyone was gathered in the living room, drinking, talking, and watching the countdown.

 

From his seat next to the taller male on the couch, Deidara leaned over into his space slightly to be heard, “what do you think of that New Year’s tradition?” he asked suggestively.

 

“Which one?” Itachi asked, keeping his face blank as he took a sip of his drink — the one Deidara had made for him.

 

_ “A delicious drink for a delicious man?” he’d said, handing the PhD student something sweet and sparkling. _

 

And now here he was drinking it, Deidara squished up against him to the left, his body heat seeping into Itachi from the side.

 

“The one where people kiss their partner at the end of the countdown,” he whispered, as if it was a secret shared by only them.

 

A moment passed between them, eyes locked and barely breathing.

 

“I like it,” he answered softly.

 

“Yea?”

 

“Mm.”

 

“Ok, then,” he concluded, grinning, as he slowly brought their faces closer together.

 

Everyone started shouting around them as the time wound down.

 

“3!”

 

Deidara turned his body fully, pressing the elder further into the armrest of the couch. Itachi responded instantly, contouring his body to fit better in the space the blonde had left him.

 

“2!”

 

Itachi reached out and placed a hand on Deidara’s face, while at the same time the other lifted a hand and curved it around the taller man’s neck and into his messy bun. 

 

“1!”

 

The blonde used his grip to keep Itachi’s head from moving and moved in swiftly for the kiss. It started soft but he quickly deepened it once the other man responded positively to his advance. Each felt a burst of elation as the excitement of the room surrounded them and their lips connected. The level of passion grew rapidly until they broke apart, not wanting to be going on for too long in front of a group of people.

 

Resting their foreheads together, Deidara closed his eyes, “I fucking love you. You know that right?”

 

Itachi wrapped his arms around him and pulled the blonde closer to his tightly, almost pulling him on top of him.

 

“Woah, there! I’m not going anywhere,” he giggled.

 

Itachi’s eyebrows furrowed and pursed his lips as he tried to contain his immense happiness. He felt like he was floating, the sounds of the room around them like white noise muffled in the background.

 

“I love you to, Dei.”

 

***

_ Same day, same time, different place. _

 

There was a window light in the personal house of the president and Asha always stared at it when he was getting fucked. He could just look out that little window up above and pretend he was somewhere else. In a strange way, he felt grateful towards this house, towards that window. 

 

The president’s house, like the man himself, was growing old and falling apart. The window light had a leak when it rained. The bedroom had high ceilings, walls painted a neutral beige color, and everything constantly kept immaculate. Never had Asha come over and seen a single thing out of place. Never had he come over and seen the man’s wife either, though he knew she lived here. He wondered if she hated her husband as much as he did.

 

He wondered if she knew he was a manipulative bastard who didn’t care about anything but his own self interest. If she knew he was a greedy narcissistic pig with a god complex. He wondered if either of them knew that despite his claims and belief in himself as the mastermind behind the schemes, that the truth was that he was just another puppet being used by others. 

 

He hadn’t really even reached his current position by his own power or intelligence. It was both the most ironic fact and the most tragic for all the people in this country. It was also the reason Asha was here, essentially prostituting himself to get an in. He’d slept with the asshole’s right hand man at first, years ago before the election had even taken place. Slowly working his way up, the grey-eyed male eventually made it here.

 

All his hard work, and here he was, getting fucked in the same bed he probably fucked his wife in. Probably, because he actually wasn’t sure whether she slept with the gross excuse for a human being either. If she did it was likely similar to how the man was fucking him now, just going at it by himself while his partner laid there emotionlessly. If there was any small miracle, it was that the president genuinely didn’t care if his partner was enjoying it or getting off, meaning Asha wasn’t forced to pretend to like it. As long as the man found him attractive and Asha stroked his ego relentlessly, this arrangement worked out pretty well. Honestly, having his ego stroked was all this man truly cared about. 

 

The gender of his partner? Irrelevant. 

 

Age of his partner? Irrelevant. 

 

How much his partner bowed down before his giant self-importance? Pivotal. 

 

Anyway, he only had keep this up for a little longer. Pretty soon he would get what he needed out of this and he could get out. It wouldn’t be long now, he just had to bide his time until the man left him alone in his house for a significant period of time. There was a gala coming up soon that would probably provide him with that exact opportunity. He could let the narcissist fuck him, wait for the man to leave for the event, and then hack his computer to get the files. The files he hoped to find on that computer would expose the corruption and how deep and far this network reached, both within this country and to individuals and agencies worldwide. 

 

It would be the biggest leak since Snowden, and it would set off an unstoppable chain of events.

 

So it was fine, for that end Asha could lay here like a good boy and take one for the team. It wasn't like he needed to remain loyal to anyone either. He had no significant other, barely even had friends. He’d loved Itachi since the last life he’d had with him — Itachi’s fourth and Asha’s third — though the other man had both no idea he felt that way nor did he know anything of that life since he hadn’t lived it yet. Besides, he was with Deidara now, and they deserved to be happy together. Fuck knows they had a hard enough first life, this one at least should be nicer.

 

So this was  _ fine _ . 

 

It hurt though, seeing them together. So he stopped going by Konan’s, had broke it off with Itachi, rarely went to game nights or craft nights or anything else he was invited to. It was too much of a strain on his emotions. Dealing with the corruption situation was difficult enough and had him pushing down sex induced panic attacks on the regular, so issues outside of this were just extra baggage he absolutely couldn’t deal with right now.

 

No one had made an especially serious effort to bring him back into their circle either, so perhaps it was best that way. Itachi, Konan, and Deidara — and even Sasori, though he was no longer with them in this life — were from the same first life, they were a true group of souls that traveled through existence together. Within their community of MLs there were other groups like that as well. Attempting to force oneself into those usually didn’t have a good ending, it just wasn’t meant to be. It was almost as if the universe rejected it, forcing them to stay separate.

 

Fighting against the current on that one was essentially impossible. There’s was no point to it. Things were going to happen the way they were destined to and trying to change the course of time was a fruitless endeavor.

 

So really,  _ it’s fine _ . This is fine, he’s fine like this. He may be on his own for eternity but at least he could be useful for the souls around him and try to make whatever world he was born into a better place. That was his purpose, and he at least considered himself lucky he had one of those. 

 

***

 

It was a cool March night and the breeze blew in through Itachi’s open bedroom windows. While the windows themselves were open, the curtains were drawn closed due to their current activities and moved slightly with the flow of air.

 

Deidara’s eyebrows furrowed and his back arched, a gasp escaping his open lips. He could feel Itachi’s hand in the small of his back, his fingers rubbing softly in stark comparison to the rest of their partnering. The raven haired man could be absolutely brutal when he wanted to be and the sharp stabs of his lengthy cock into the blonde’s prostate had his head spinning and his eyes watering. 

 

His nerves were sparking like fireworks, forcing his toes to curl in ecstasy. 

 

“Fuck, ‘Tachi!” he exclaimed as the older male changed their position, hitting a better angle.

 

He was practically bent in half now, his calves thrown over Itachi’s shoulder and the back of his thighs pressing against the taller’s chest and abs. Deidara loved how passionate their coupling was, how exciting, how insanely fucking pleasure inducing.

 

“Dei...Dei I love you,” he whispered softly into the blonde’s muscled shoulder, biting down to mark the flesh and causing his partner to let out a scream and a murmured agreement of the sentiment. Itachi loved how the blonde was unexpectedly strong and toned. His beautiful and boyish features tended to throw people off about his true physical strength and form. The truth was that Deidara was no pushover, and he could easily pin his partner to the fucking wall if he wanted to. Today though, he willingly and happily allowed the older man to take the lead, and Itachi didn’t waste the opportunity to make his lover feel incredible.

 

Using his powerful core and thigh muscles, the raven thrust punishingly into his partner, knowing how he liked to feel it fast, rough, and deep when he was bottoming.  The blonde’s plush and supple ass jiggled with each slap of their hips and cushioned the impact of hip bones to pelvis. 

 

If one was to compare the rocking of their bodies to the motion of the waves, they’d be similar to a sea in the depths of a raging storm — intense, unforgiving, relentless. There was no end in sight for hours as the pleasure seemed to drag on, both having good endurance and stamina. Eventually though, the night grew close to its end.

 

Deidara moved his legs to wrap around Itachi’s waist and anchor against the back of his soft ass. Then, using that anchor he pushed the older man into him suddenly and with great force, keeping him locked there as his orgasm hit. The coiled feeling in his lower abdomen snapped and sent warmth though his cock, causing the cum to spurt out and his ass to clench. 

 

“Shit! Ah, shit, keep going! Don’t...ah...don’t stop until you come to,” he ordered.

 

Obeying the blonde’s command, Itachi continued thrusting, only changing the pace to something more suited to his own pleasure. He slowed slightly and switched to deep burying thrusts that paused every time he was pressed inside at the deepest level. This allowed him to feel the still spasming muscles and the heat of Deidara’s internal walls.

 

It wasn’t long before he to was coming, and he cried out softly as he did, coating the younger man's insides before pulling out gently.

 

They both collapsed on the bed, lying next to each other as they caught their breaths.

 

“For that being only the third time we’ve had sex, you’re pretty good at giving me exactly what I want,” Deidara breathed out, turning his head to look at him.

 

Itachi huffed out a laugh.

 

“I’m a pretty fast learner. It’s not that hard since you’re a responsive, and quite vocal, lover. I just have to pay attention to your facial expressions and listen for screams,” he teased with a small smirk and soft eyes.

 

It was so adorable Deidara almost wanted to punch him. Instead he settled for lifting himself up and rolling over the other’s body. Leaning over him with both hands planted on either side of his head, he looked down at his older partner. 

 

“I’ll have to get attuned to your body to, wouldn’t want to leave you out, yeah?”

 

“Now?” Itachi asked, one eyebrow arching at the insatiability of his lover.

 

“No time like the present to fuck you into submission. I’d love to learn exactly how I need to take you apart in order to make you cry. I bet you like it all soft and slow but like, really  _ really _ deep. Shall we try it out Ita-chan?”

 

Well, it’s not like his erection wasn’t back at half mast already after hearing that. Plus, it was only eight at night on a Saturday. Might as well enjoy their free time, Itachi thought.

 

“No reason not to, I suppose.”

 

“Aww, you say that like you aren’t excited...but I can see that blush on your face so I know you’re just being shy. Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel so good you won’t even remember how embarrassed you are,” the blonde promised.

 

He wasn’t going to argue with that.

 

***

 

Konan hadn’t seen him for nearly an entire year but then suddenly here Asha was, in her very own bedroom.

 

“Look, Konan, I just dropped by to say goodbye. You deserve to know I don’t intend to come back,” Asha said, sitting on the side of her bed.

 

She moved to take a seat beside him as they both looked at the wall.

 

“Itachi said you told him you didn’t want to be reincarnated again. Is that true?”

 

He snorted and looked at the wall away from her. His leg jiggled, hands twisting in his lap.

 

“You really can’t trust anyone, can you?” he laughed, self-deprecating.

 

“Hey!” she said, grabbing his arm and glaring at him, “He’s worried about you! We all are.”

 

“Don’t you lie to me. Not you to, not in this situation,” Asha pleaded, clenching his eyes shut and refusing to look at her.

 

“I’m not! And what exactly is ‘this situation’?”

 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm himself.

 

“I’m an outsider. We’re standing on opposite sides of a river. I can see you and you can see me. Sometimes we can talk and when the tide is down we can reach over just far enough to touch. But we will forever be standing on two separate sides, the three of you and me, and I can see from where I’m standing how happy you all are and that’s what I want for you, I swear it is, but  _ fuck _ if I’m not so lonely I want to rip my own heart out.”

 

He looked at her finally and she brought her hands back to herself. His grey eyes were watery and he held a wavering smile on his face. Her own chest hurt in empathy and she’d need to be careful or she may start crying in his place.

 

“I’m sorry you feel that way. You don’t have to stay on that side, you know? Next time there’s a low tide...maybe you should cross?”

 

Impossible, he thought.

 

“The water is too deep, I might drown.”

 

“You’re drowning anyway, aren't you?” she questioned seriously. “Why not take the risk? I know you love Itachi.”

 

He barked out a weak laugh.

 

“No chance there, he’s madly in love with Deidara. He’d never leave him and I wouldn’t want him to. They’re happy and I’d never want to get involved and ruin something good and pure like that.”

 

She hummed softly, thinking.

 

“Deidara cares for you, and I know you like him as well — though you’ve spent more time with Itachi.”

 

His eyes snapped up to meet hers in shock, “What are you saying?” he whispered.

 

“It’s not unheard of, three people together.”

 

“Maybe,” he said, still stunned into near silence, “but three people together and happy? That’s unlikely. Jealousy almost always gets involved when there’s an uneven distribution of care.”

 

“It’s not impossible though is it? Who says there’s an uneven distribution?”

 

“Yea, right,” he replied sarcastically.

 

“I’m just saying, you should consider it.”

 

Asha stood up and walked to the door, it was only open a crack. Konan stood as well and they hugged tightly.

 

“Please don’t give up on us just yet. We’ll figure something out.”

 

He nodded and pulled in a breath.

 

“Goodbye Konan,” he said, and there was something final about it.

 

“I hope I’ll see you soon,” she muttered to herself as he left.

 

Neither noticed that Itachi had come home or that he’d overheard their entire conversation in the hallway, stopping when he’d heard his name mentioned. 

 

*** 

 

It had been almost a year and a half since their first kiss and now they were celebrating another big event. They didn’t usually have the news on but tonight was different. Deidara had a big art project he’d finally completed and it was getting media attention. Konan, Itachi, and he were all gathered at the new apartment the two men had moved into together. It was official now, they’d been dating for quite a while and were going to get married. Konan had been seeing someone to and it was good timing for Itachi move out so she could spend more alone time with her girlfriend. 

 

Tonight a bottle of champagne had been opened and indian takeout had been ordered. They sat gathered on the living room couch waiting to see the segment on Deidara’s project. It wasn’t for sure when exactly it would air, but the news station had interviewed him earlier that day and so he knew it would be tonight on the eight o’clock news.

 

When it finally showed the blonde was elated and they all toasted to his success together. It was the culmination of years of work and the countless hours he’d spent working on it were now worth it. The world would see his art for the short period of time it was available before he took it down. Allowing it to stay on exhibit for an extended time period was out of the question as doing so would defeat the purpose. The project was meant to be a temporary installment so that it could be properly appreciated in its fleeting existence.

 

While they were still sat in the living room, having not turned off the news yet and discussing his installation, a particularly jarring piece of news aired. They’d missed what the station had been reporting on but half way through the story a warning flashed across the screen and stole their attention. The warning stated that the following video to be played had sensitive content since it would show the death on an individual. Concerned and intrigued by the unusual tv content the trio turned their attention fully to screen.

 

It was showing a subway station, which after a few moments Itachi recognized as the one he’d seen Asha at many years ago with a mysterious figure. As the video played a blurry figure could be seen standing near where the train was about to pull up, close to the edge. It was hard to decipher what was going on exactly due to the bad film quality, but another figure could be seen walking up to the one on the screen. Both were hooded and had their faces turned away. 

 

Then the train was quick approaching and the second figure reached out and pushed the other in front of it. From the speed of events and bad quality it was hard to tell the distinct features but as the man fell in front of the train his face became visible briefly. The news station then zoomed into the falling man as they replayed it. His face looked as though it registered shock when he saw who’d pushed him. After the shock passed there was some sort of acceptance as the individual closed his eyes and fell backwards into the oncoming train. If one was good at reading body language and expressions they’d be able to tell he also recognized the person who pushed him, but regardless of that the knowledge of who did it would be lost to history since the camera couldn’t see the perpetrator’s face. 

 

While the murderer was never found and the case not resolved, a few weeks later the victim’s name was released. Though the trio had already guessed who the individual was from the blurry images, it was a shock to have it confirmed.

 

The victim was Asha.

 

Despite all warnings and attempts to help from his friends, the man had allowed himself get reckless in his pursuit and died for it. Whatever information he’d obtained through his research and undercover work was lost and the political situation declined rapidly over the next century. The ones who’d been left behind — Itachi, Deidara, and Konan — escaped and sought asylum in another safer friendlier nation. They’d now lost both Sasori and Asha and though the two were missed dearly the trio had to continue on. The only thing left behind was the hope that everyone would meet again, in better situations, happier, and less traumatized by their lifetimes of unrest and abuse.


	4. Aconite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First meetings? Or twice met? The flow of time cares not for how it affects lives nor emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. You guys I'm seriously freaking out. I had all 10 chapters planned out and many were partially written, if not complete, but for some reason my entire google drive where I'd been storing this data decided to delete itself. I have no idea how or why this happened. I was able to restore some things but lost others (namely, my outline, drafts, and 1 complete chapter). This will affect how the story plays out now, as I'll have to redo some things and try to remember what the original plan was. UGH. Anyway, here's the next chapter.  
> 2\. I had the life #s saved in my outline, but I believe these were the correct ones:  
> Itachi: 4  
> Asha: 3  
> Konan: 4  
> 3\. Warnings for this chapter: rape, torture, sort of dubcon?

Five years old, that was his first time. Well, his first sexual experience in this lifetime anyway. Although he wouldn’t start remembering any of his previous lives until he was fourteen, so at four years old, to him it was like truly losing his virginity. He was terrified and confused and didn’t understand why it always hurt. Asha was a pretty little thing, with big indigo-rimmed silvery doe eyes, soft freckles, and naturally pink rosebud lips. But he wished he was ugly. He wished he was the ugliest thing in existence. 

 

Maybe then this wouldn’t have happened. When he was younger he knew he’d had parents that were nice and treated him well. His earliest memories were warm and filled with what felt like a golden air, sunlit and soft and safe. But things changed, he wasn’t sure when but one day the people in charge of him weren’t his parents anymore. There were so many adults everywhere but none of them felt familiar. How did he get there? Why didn’t his parents come looking for him? Or had they tried and failed to find him? What if they had left him with these people intentionally?

 

Honestly, everything was so confusing and he felt lost. He wanted to go back to the golden time, when life was less sad and scary. These new people hurt him and it didn’t make sense what they were doing. At least at first he didn’t see why they would want to play with him in a way that hurt. Weren’t games supposed to be fun for everyone? They had told him it was a game after all, only for some reason he was always the loser. Eventually though, he realized the reason he was the only one hurting and everyone else got pleasure from it was because it had never been a children’s game to begin with. It was an adult game and he didn’t have the handbook or maturity to understand it. How could they not only ignore him crying and begging them to stop, but actually seem to enjoy it? It was a mystery to him. 

 

They did other strange things to. One time when he was six they took him out of his bed in the middle of the night and blindfolded him. When they ripped it off he saw that he’d been shoved onto a dirty floor with piles of old pillows strewn about almost randomly. The large ornate windows hung high on the walls and the ceiling felt miles away. Everything was dark except for some candles in the corners and he was surrounded by men dressed all in various shades of red. As they got closer to him Asha noticed their pupils were blown unusually wide and it was frightening. When they spoke their speech was slurred and when they walked they swayed. One man stood apart from the rest and they seemed to follow everything he ordered with an alarming lack of hesitation or questioning. The reverence they clearly felt for this elderly man was creepy and the unsettled feeling he had only increased when they held his nose and mouth shut, forcing him to swallow a little orange pill.

 

It made him feel good but he didn’t want to feel good, not while they were doing the things they were doing to him. The pill made him feel like his body was betraying him, like he was burning from the inside out, and it felt so good it hurt. It lasted only hours but it felt like an eternity. When they were finally done with him it was dawn, he was bleeding and exhausted, and he didn’t care anymore. Asha just wanted them to put him back in the little dark room where they usually kept him and leave him alone. Usually he hated being in there because he was alone and could barely see anything, but compared to this...it was a million times better. He was used to a single man shoving himself on him and using him but this was so different from what he’d experienced before. 

 

Even this become a familiar experience though, once they started doing it monthly.

 

***

 

Soon after, nine months to be exact — he’d been able to keep track using this horrific ritual, so it turns out it was at least useful for something — he realized there were others like him. They must have thought they’d broken him by that time so he was allowed more freedom. Asha was always a pretty resilient soul though, and he used his newfound freedom to his advantage. In talking to the older children he found out there was a way to play this game to his benefit. At the very least he could minimize the emotional anguish he felt on the daily by giving himself something to fight for. If he had the ability to act like the happy little obedient whore they wanted and manipulate the pedophillic abusers into believing they were in a romantic relationship then he could get them to treat him nicer. Sometimes they would even bring him gifts like extra food or new clothes. After a while he even started to think his situation wasn’t that bad, like maybe it was actually normal. Everyone he knew lived like this and he’d never been outside the compound, it could be the same everywhere.

 

This surreal situation continued on for years until one day everything changed after his thirteenth birthday. At this point he started having dreams, sometimes when he wasn’t even asleep. Eventually he recognized these as flashbacks and came to terms with his previous lives, of which he’d lived through two. Having remembered life beyond his current situation it became clear to him that what he’d been existing in was a cult. What he’d thought was normal was in fact an absolute nightmare. What they’d been doing to him and other children wasn’t right. Investigating this further he realized three things.

 

One: This cult — The Covenant — was massive and far reaching. It encompassed a large area of land and had thousands of followers.

 

Two: There was a pedophillic section of this cult lead by the now elderly and corrupted leader. They obtained children through different means — sometimes through kidnapping, sometimes through their parents joining the cult and giving them up willingly, and sometimes through within the cult from pregnancies between the leader and his concubines. Those women weren’t called as such, but it was obvious that was their role in the group. Which method they obtained Asha through, he wasn’t sure. The purpose of this section was to break children from a young age and turn them into obedient puppets for the Covenant’s army.

 

Three: Plans for expansion were imminent and full government takeover from behind the scenes was not far off. Before long this sickening cult that had abused him and countless others, brainwashing thousands, would have immense power. From personal experience Asha knew violence was not outside the range of behaviour to be expected from this group and war was likely if the public became aware of the reality of their circumstances.

 

When this prediction finally did became a reality two years later Asha escaped at the earliest opportunity and quickly joined the first revolutionary group he could find. It didn’t last long as it suffered from lack of infrastructure and good leadership so he ended up jumping from group to group for another year or so before finally settling in The Cause. At sixteen he was the  youngest fighter The Cause had and he was among the best. The experiences he’d had in his first and second lives meant he knew how to survive in a warzone. It wasn’t exactly his first time around the revolutionary block either. The end result of this was that he moved up quickly in terms of responsibility and the missions they trusted him to accomplish. In addition, he’d sworn in his second life after what he perceived as a failed revolution, that he would not let the same happen again. He could do better and Asha refused to stand aside and allow another world to suffer under the regime of the corrupt and abusive. 

 

So here he was a few years later, nineteen and on the front lines of a bloody battle waged on the grounds of a smoggy wasteland — the remains of a once proud nation fallen to ignorance, fear, and greed. 

 

He was covered in ash, congealed blood, and flakes of bone from an explosion that had just occurred to his right. Taking cover in a run-down house that amounted to no more than a few walls and a crumbling half torn off ceiling, he assessed his state. Bruise to the right hip, two large welts and a cut to his right side and calf, ears ringing. Overall, no major arteries nicked, blood loss is moderate and can be stopped using his med kit, still able to move through the pain, and the ringing will stop with time. His clothes at this point were little more than darkly colored rags and patched up old kevlar. His photon sword at his hip still worked and the black canvas bag that held his rations, med kit, and an assortment of other materials he deemed necessary was sufficiently intact and carriable. His shoulder length hair was falling out of the messy bun it was originally haphazardly thrown into and some of his bangs were dripping blood onto his face. He wasn’t sure whether the blood was his own.

 

Movement at his eight o’clock jostled him out of his assessment and quickly took his attention. He settled into a defensive stance with his light teal colored photon sword activated as the dark haired male approached him with his hands up in a don’t shoot position. Although this individual appeared to not want to fight it was impossible to tell from Asha’s current angle and with the smoke billowing heavily around them whether they were on the same side. 

 

“Asha!” 

 

It wasn’t unusual for others to know his name, he was well regarded within The Cause and one of their strongest and foremost fighters. The man continued speaking.

 

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

 

Odd, Asha thought while tilting his head slightly to the side. He was often fighting and a battlefield is a likely place to find him. The man seemed to take his silence as anger because he was quickly speaking once again.

 

“I...am sorry. I’ve been searching for you because I wanted to see you again but I wasn’t sure when it would be possible,” the man said gently. Asha could barely hear him despite the relative silence surrounding them.

 

Again his words were odd, because Asha didn’t remember ever meeting this person. He definitely would have remembered because whoever this was they were strikingly handsome in a soft way. Although their long raven hair was coming out of its ponytail and whipping about in the wind and the smoke obscured the details of some of their finer features, he could make out the sharp obsidian eyes shining with intelligence and strangely...kindness? The strong confident posture of their well-toned body. The dark clothes showing no insignia to denote their allegiance. Clearly a fighter, clearly intelligent, a dominant aura, and masculine with a feminine touch. Absolutely his type, 100% attractive.

 

Maybe a one night stand he didn’t remember? He’d taken to participating in those around the time he’d turned eighteen. It was rude not to remember though so Asha held his ground and didn’t respond. It was eerily quiet, the sounds of a battle raging could be heard nearby but the small clearing between the decrepit walls of the used-to-be house they stood in was silent save for the wind.

 

“I didn’t get to ask a lot of questions about our condition the first time we met. I really want to talk with you about how things ended and I found myself wanting to know more about our circumstances but I couldn’t locate you anywhere. I was concerned we wouldn’t meet in this lifetime—”

 

Shit.

 

“Stop talking. Now.” 

 

It was quiet again as they stared at each other. A bomb went off in the distance and the ground shook.

 

“I understand that you know me but I regret to inform you that I do not know you yet. It seems you also are unaware of the rules we abide by so I will explain those to you. However, before we start let’s find a safer place to rest.”

 

The rules were extremely important. Nayeli, a dear friend from his first life, had spoken to him about the rules. Although he hadn’t realized at the time their gravity or significance in his own story, the time had now come for Asha to pass those on.

 

He and the man walked some distance to a more intact building from a recent government build. It had been high end apartments for the ultra rich but the revolution had targeted the area, shattering the building’s fine glass windows and scaring away the renters. After walking the two of them to a side entrance Asha swiftly hacked the protected entryway and led them inside and up to the third floor. They were unlikely to receive company here but he’d seated himself cross-legged against an exposed beam to achieve a good vantage point of the ground just in case. It also allowed him quick escape off the side of the building in case they were ambushed.

 

“You seem to know my name already. Could you please tell me yours?”

 

“I apologize, I shouldn’t have assumed you knew me. My name is Itachi and we were friends previously.”

 

“Itachi...thank you. I will begin by telling you that these rules must be followed or you risk disturbing timelines and changing events. Do you understand?” 

 

Itachi nodded and some of his hair fell in his eyes. He took out of the remnants of his ponytail and redid it. Asha noticed that he had slender and delicate hands with long fingers, he would have been a good pianist. Maybe he had been at some point?

 

“First, when you meet someone you know is one of us you must always start by asking what number life they are on. This will give you an indication of where they are in their timeline and how it matches up with yours. For example, I’m currently on my third life. You?”

 

“This is my fourth,” Itachi said, eyebrows creasing as he looked away momentarily, “May I ask what this lifetime has been like for you so far? I was a soldier in my first life and I can tell that you are a skilled fighter. When I met you previously you did not indicate having experience is that area—”

 

“Please refrain from completing that train of thought. Actually, this brings me to our second rule. That is, if you have met one of us out of order you may not speak about the lives they haven’t yet lived. Doing so has the potential to create paradoxes.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, tipping his head forward in apology, “that makes sense. I won’t bring it up again. What about your current life story? It’s very well known beginning from the time you joined The Cause but before then it’s like you didn’t exist. I know because I searched for you from the moment I remembered and there was nothing.”

 

A pause.

 

“Please believe me when I say I’m sorry to ask this, but Asha...were you one of the children of the Ark?”

 

A pointed question. 

 

Asha quelled the emotions bubbling in his chest and the pit of his stomach from the sudden reminder of his abuse and kept his face as blank as possible. Though this man claimed to be his friend, Asha’s belief was such that emotions lead to vulnerability, and that being vulnerable could lead to emotional pain and failure. He couldn’t trust this man, friend or no, with his vulnerability and so he chose to adorn a neutral mask.

 

Whether the man was fooled or could read him regardless, Asha wasn’t sure. From the way Itachi had been reacting to him, he seemed like the type of individual who had an innate understanding of people’s inner souls despite whatever outward front they may project. 

 

The Ark the older man referred to was the group of children within the cult that had been abused and groomed to their liking from a young age. These children often didn’t have records and were virtually unknown to the public due to their incarceration within the secretive community. Most of them either committed suicide before the age of fifteen or submitted their minds fully to the cult leaders and became puppets for their use. Asha was one of the rare ones who chose a different path.

 

“Considering I don’t know you,” by which Asha meant  _ I don’t trust you _ , “I actually would prefer not to discuss that,” he replied softly, looking to the side and dipping his head downward so his hair was covering his eyes. 

 

“However, on the matter of previous lives and fighting experience...I’ll say this. I have had two before this one and they’ve both been similar. Despite how I feel on the matter there’s always three recurring themes,” he paused, moving to hold up the fingers off his left hand as he counted off, “One: At the most basic level, something is terribly wrong with the world and I try to resolve it in order to prevent further atrocities. However, the situation never improves. Two: I end up fighting and struggling and giving everything I have to make a change but things still get fucked up and twisted into the darkest outcome possible anyways. Three: Nothing is ever better in the end. Despite my best efforts I seem to fail continuously and the cycle of darkness continues onward.”

 

Putting his hand back down, he looked out at the smoke and fire, the scorched lands. Itachi looked outwards with him and they sat in solitude momentarily before the younger went on.

 

“It’s bleak, I know. But...I want to keep trying. It’s too late to turn back now anyways and regardless, I will always fight for hope.”

 

Still looking outwards, the silver-eyed male lifted his right hand up slightly and off the edge of the building. He let it drift over the barren landscape, feeling the heat and strong gusts of wind as they caressed his skin and watching as a stream of smoke from below twisted about his hand, twirling his wrist and fingers to watch it dance around them.

 

“Hope, Itachi...it’s such a fragile entity but it’s integral and without it our flame goes out. If we give up, who will fight to make things better? We multi-lifers are the eternally burning torch that gives the world light and our duty is to go on as long as possible as protectors and guardians of the universe. At least that’s how I view things, no one really knows. Although, there is a rumor among us that once we lose hope—an individual soul that is—we stop reincarnating.”

 

The younger brought his right hand back to his lap, folding it neatly on top of the left and sighing deeply as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, tipping it upwards. 

 

“That’s an interesting way of looking at it,” Itachi mused, watching his face, “It’s certainly less depressing than believing our situation to have arisen by mistake.”

 

Asha opened his eyes once again, returning his gaze to the former Konoha-nin.

 

“Yes, whatever our reality may be, it helps to think positively. Reality is subjective anyway, so what does it really matter if you choose to believe a beautiful lie.”

 

Itachi nodded in agreement and an explosion went off, rumbling the building lightly.

 

“Regarding what I mentioned earlier, no one truly knows whether it’s that we stop reincarnating altogether or if we simply stop doing so with our memories attached. My close friend and mentor in a previous life thought it was the former,” he explained, breath shaky and eyes shutting tightly, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to hold back the pain of her loss. 

 

He swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing, eyes focused on a splotch of flaking blood on the floor.

 

“And while I’d like to believe it’s the later since she lost her hope before dying and it saddens me to think her soul may never return, I personally agree with her. I’ve never met anyone more knowledgeable about our situation nor whom I trusted more, so I’m inclined to go along with what she believed. However, you are, of course, free to come to your own conclusions and I won’t argue with you on whichever you choose.” 

 

Before they could continue the conversation any further another bomb detonated nearby, this one much closer, blowing smoke and rubble in their direction. Asha quickly shifted onto one knee, shielding himself with the pillar he’d been leaning against and looking outward, squinting against the ash. Itachi had likewise moved to another pillar a few feet down.

 

“Out of time, are we?” Asha muttered to himself.

 

“We need to move out of this location,” Itachi said, shifting to look at him.

 

“Mm, let’s go. I don’t know what your allegiances are but you’re welcome to come back with me to The Cause. I’ll vouch for you.”

 

“Even though you don’t know me?”

 

“Yes, if you hurt me then so be it,” He says softly, closing his eyes momentarily. 

 

“Itachi, if it ends in a fight, you must know that I’ll kill you to protect the organization. Whatever happens to me, I can’t let this war continue, The Ark and The Covenant can not be allowed to persist in this world,” the younger said, determinedly looking the former ANBU-nin in the eyes. 

 

“Of course, I understand the need to protect something against all costs. I promise you though, you do not have to fear me. I would never hurt you intentionally.”

 

Another explosion shook the building, bits of the walls and ceilings crumbling and raining down on it’s only two occupants. Before risking the building collapsing in on them, the two men quickly vacated the shakily standing shelter and headed towards the current headquarters of The Cause.

 

***

 

Having been a top-notch shinobi in his first life, fighting in the shadows wasn’t out of the ordinary for Itachi. His skill set was close to unmatched within the organization and it didn’t take long for him to rise in ranks. Before long he was trusted enough to fight alongside the others on the frontlines. While killing was something the raven despised, he recognized it as necessary to achieve certain goals, and for The Cause he was willing to put himself back into the mindset he’d tried so hard to forget. He knew they were fighting for the good of others, to save the planet and its inhabitants. They were fighting to prevent more children from suffering as horribly as Asha had. It was worth the pain and emotional turmoil that were once again stirred up inside him as he forced himself to contradict the truly kind nature of his core personality. As Kabuto had once put it, Itachi was unexpectedly tender-hearted, caring deeply for others and empathizing with their pain.

 

Regardless of these facts, he fought alongside his new comrades for the future of this planet. He’d only just managed to find his friend Asha with the help of Konan and didn’t want to be separated from the only person who could understand his situation here. Konan had sadly been killed by a detonation three years prior, prompting Itachi to find Asha quickly before he too was lost. He didn’t want to be alone with humans who didn’t understand reincarnation. For some reason Asha had never returned ‘home’ in this lifetime. Perhaps because he hadn’t been able to. He wanted to question his friend about it sometime, but in a war it can be hard to find the right moment.

 

They saw each other in passing, sometimes fighting back to back on the frontlines, sometimes eating together in the headquarters kitchen. They rarely had a long conversation despite Itachi’s interest in doing so. He remembered how engaging and riveting their conversations had been, even playful as they bounced off each other, in his previous lifetime and longed for the comfort and excitement he received from connecting on a deeper level with someone of equal intelligence. It was hard to get the younger fighter alone though, it seemed their organization favored him and his abilities quite a lot, as they were frequently sending him out on missions. Asha seemed to never be allowed rest at HQ longer than a few days before they shoved him back out into the fray.

 

A year and half passed like this and the older ravenette could recognize that Asha was beginning to avoid him intentionally, though he wasn’t sure of the underlying cause. He speculated that the younger was actually withdrawing from everyone and not just him. This type of behaviour was something that Itachi was familiar with. The younger was exhibiting a lifestyle he knew well from his time in ANBU. Many of those who’d spent excess amounts of time shrouded in that darkness and the death associated with it would start doing similar things. 

 

He vividly remembered the way Kakashi would regularly drink and sleep around whenever he was off duty. It was like his ANBU captain was trying desperately to shut his mind off by any means necessary and if he couldn’t distract himself with a mission then he’d wanted to be blackout drunk or fucked out of his mind, or both at the same time. It was an extremely unhealthy coping mechanism for dealing with emotional pain and trauma and Itachi was glad that his former mentor, whom he held in high regard, had learned to better cope with the pain before the end of his life.

 

Itachi himself wasn’t immune to this struggle, his coping mechanisms had just been slightly different. They’d had to be since he was already gravely ill and had to survive long enough for Sasuke to fulfill his vengeance. Anything that would endanger his health could have adverse effects on his goals. It made finding a working coping mechanism especially hard and there were certain times when he would shut himself off a little too much, burying his personality and feelings so deep he’d feel ice cold. It made him shiver just to remember how deep into the nothingness he forced himself to be while in Akatsuki. 

 

That desperate place of trying to supress oneself for the better of humanity was where Asha was right now and he could tell the younger resistance fighter was barely coping. He was employing a mix of Itachi and Kakashi’s coping methods — let no one in, don’t get close to anyone, let a barrage of people fuck you until you can hardly remember your own name or how many people had used you that night.

 

Just as Itachi was reaching the point of stepping in and trying to help, Asha was suddenly gone. He didn’t see him for a week, which wasn’t abnormal since they’d often send him to the battlefield for long durations. But then that week turned into a month, then two months. He couldn’t be dead because The Cause had a tendency to immediately clear out the rooms of the dead to make room for new recruits and Asha’s stuff was all still there. In addition, they most certainly would have martyred him in the case of his death, using it to fuel the troops, and nothing of the sort had occurred.

 

Through asking around and investigating on his own, he learned that Asha had gone out on a top-secret undercover solo mission to infiltrate the enemy. It should only have taken about three weeks. At the end of that time frame he was supposed to have gotten ahold of some important documents and plans before returning to the rendezvous point.

 

Except, he never returned and was subsequently classified as MIA. No one had heard from him for two and a half months. For the first two weeks undercover he’d been reporting back information in a timely manner but those reports suddenly dissipated. This wasn’t Asha’s first undercover mission and no one had really worried that much, they all just assumed he could handle it and would return eventually. That was until he’d missed the pick up at the designated location three weeks after the start of his assignment.

 

People started to get concerned but they could spare no one to go on a recon mission and were afraid to share information on Asha’s infiltration to begin with in case it blew his cover — assuming he still had a cover to be blown.

 

Itachi hadn’t been truly angry in a while, not to the point of lashing out, but he could barely contain himself in this situation. He was seething. While he understood that these things happened, it was despicable that no one had even bothered going after him. What if he was being kept prisoner? Who knows what they enemy would be doing to him — to a child of the Ark who’d escaped and turned traitor against them, to someone who held a lot of information in this war due to their well-known high position in The Cause. Those types of circumstances usually indicated a person was a high risk for torture and interrogation. 

 

Someone had to at least attempt a rescue. 

 

If no one else, then Itachi would go. 

 

He scoured the whole of their organization and found only two others that were willing to leave their post and help him. They’d both been on teams led by Asha and highly respected him as both a soldier and a leader. Once acquiring a few teammates Itachi went to their organization leaders and pleaded their case. The determination was that they’d be given two weeks to get Asha back, and if they failed to return in that amount of time then they’d be branded traitors. It was a rough deal but the former Konoha-nin was confident in his abilities. He would lead this team, they would succeed in bringing Asha back if he was still alive, and they would arrive on time.

 

So that was how, four months after Asha went missing, Itachi and his hastily formed team found themselves setting out into the war-torn enemy terrain to retrieve a man that probably wished he was dead, if he was still alive at all.

 

***

 

They were here, finally.

 

The corridor was dark and damp and the sounds of battle were muffled, only large explosions shaking the structure occasionally broke the almost silence. That, and screams. Itachi’s team split up to search the rooms, staying out of sight and quiet. They’d found this place nearly a week into investigating the enemy and were fairly sure Asha was here somewhere. It was unexpectedly large, the number of prisoners was immense, and it took almost two hours before Itachi stumbled upon the correct cell.

 

What he found inside was disturbing, and Itachi had seen a lot of things. He’d seen what Hidan did to people and this rivaled the state Hidan would bring people to just before their body finally gave up on them and they died.

 

Asha was near the far wall of the room, lying on his stomach with his face turned in the direction of the door and eyes clenched closed in what appeared to be fitful pain-induced sleep. His breathing was harsh and sounded damp, likely he’d gotten sick with infection from his injuries and from the unsanitary and moldy conditions. His hair was longer than Itachi remembered it, it was loose and tangled and drenched dark red in some places.There was blood everyone. And cum. Both old and new of both substances. It flaked off his bruised and torn skin, crunched on the dirty floor, and pooled around his limp body. It dripped off his thighs, which had clear whip marks shred into the skin. The whip lashes criss-crossed up his thighs, along his ass, and kept going up the small of his back and further from what Itachi could see from around the one piece of clothing Asha wore — a torn dark shirt, pulled up to mid back, for unfortunately obvious reasons. 

 

The flesh around his right ankle and on the bottom of his left foot was flayed, three of his fingernails had been ripped clean off, his wrists were scraped nearly raw and bruised from fighting while being cuffed and tied down. He was littered with a rainbow of bruises, and he’d been branded with the mark of The Covenant on his front left hip. 

 

In terms of broken bones this situation was a mess as well. It was always better if they hadn’t broken anything because then the individual being rescued had a better chance of walking or climbing or whatever was necessary on their own, leading to a higher chance of mission success. They had been very unfortunate in this case because from the disturbing angle of Asha’s right leg, Itachi knew there was likely a tibial shaft fracture. It’s possible Asha managed to escape at some point and was brutally punished for it once he’d been caught. In Konoha the torture unit would frequently break the legs of prisoners who had fight in them and were smart enough to pose an escape risk.

 

“I’m sorry,” Itachi whispered to himself, breathing in sharply through his nose as he took in the battered body of his friend.

 

This was bad. 

 

Itachi crept quietly into the dark room, avoiding the puddles of blood and cum as much as possible. They didn’t want to leave identifying marks if they managed to escape, it would lead any tracking units straight to them.

 

“Asha,” he breathed, kneeling beside him and gently touching his shoulder. No response. He lifted the hand from his shoulder and lightly brushed the hair off his forehead, “Are you with me?”

 

Nothing.

 

He shook his shoulder more insistently but to no avail. He had to get him awake quickly if possible, an unresponsive Asha would greatly decrease their chances of success once again.

 

Itachi loathed hurting him any more, not when his body was evidently close to it’s limit, but this gentle approach wasn’t waking him. He didn’t want to think about how rough the torturers must have been with his friend for his body to not even respond to a soft touch. It’s possible he was just completely knocked out from pain and exhaustion, it was better in some ways to think that was the case. Rather that than thinking about how his torturers probably woke him up with rape and torture itself. Waking up to someone already hurting you after collapsing from hours of pain would be horrific, and Asha was here for four months. How many days had passed like that? 

 

In the complete darkness of this windowless room, it’s single occupant had most assuredly lost track of time all together — just existing as a single point of pain for what must have seemed endless. 

 

The former Konoha-nin swallowed back his despair and applied light pressure to the base of Asha’s throat while clamping a hand over his mouth and nose, temporarily blocking air flow. If nothing else, the body would respond to suffocation. It was a last resort and Itachi didn’t want him to scream when he woke up since it would draw attention.

 

Asha jerked awake after about half a minute. He tried to move his wrist to grab the hand at his throat but it must have been too painful to move as he cried out upon moving it just slightly. The hand on top of his mouth muffled the sound and the younger continued to struggle with wide unseeing eyes, not comprehending the situation to be a rescue.

 

“Asha, stay calm. It’s Itachi, I’m here to get you out.”

 

Grey-blue eyes flicked up to his face, the pupils dilated unusually wide and nearly blocking out the light blue. The thin dark indigo rim around his outer iris was clearly seen but the inner lighter color normally making up the inner part was hardly visible due to the unnatural amount of pupil dilation. In addition, he was sweating and felt clammy to the touch. So they’d probably drugged him. More bad news. 

 

“Are you with me?”

 

A slight nod of his head and Itachi removed his hands. While he wanted to comfort the younger fighter Itachi knew from personal experience that a person doesn’t particularly want to be touched after having sex unwillingly. Especially when it had happened repeatedly. One of his ANBU missions as a twelve year old had been to gather intel and then assassinate a feudal lord in a neighboring village. He’d been chosen specifically for this mission because the man had a predilection for preteen boys and Itachi was both beautiful and excelled in espionage. 

 

Itachi seriously hadn’t wanted to sleep with the man but he’d been forced to into order to complete the mission successfully. He’d been a virgin before the mission. By the end he’d had sex nearly twenty times. After the two week long mission was over Itachi couldn’t stand human touch for months afterwards without feeling invaded and so dirty he needed to take a seering shower and scrub his skin raw. He had one other mission like that while in ANBU and then generally refused all seduction related missions afterwards. Once he transitioned into the Akatsuki he outright refused them anytime they even came up. He felt bad for Konan and Deidara, he can’t imagine how painful it must have been for them to suffer such assignments on a consistent basis. No matter how fine they acted, Itachi was sure it had affected them negatively.

 

Presently, Asha inhaled shakily, flinching and coughing when he tried to speak before gathering his composure. 

 

He lifted the hand he’d tried to move earlier and gripped Itachi’s pants leg, heaving himself up as much as possible. The pain must have been horrendous because he started gasping uncontrollably and looked like he could puke from that small movement alone. He’d barely managed a half sitting/half lying position before he started violently coughing again.

 

“Sorry...sick,” he got out after a moment, “Got the...plans. Data. Didn’t — didn’t leak...any inform — ,” some more coughing and then, “information.”

 

Itachi’s chest and eyes clenched tight momentarily before he shoved that away to be unpacked later. He needed to be a professional right now. They were deep in enemy territory and he had a mission to finish. He needed to be cold and calculating if he wanted to complete this rescue, and  _ damn _ if he didn’t want to complete this fucking rescue successfully. 

 

“We need to go now. Can you hold yourself up at all?”

 

Asha’s gaze flicked to his leg and then back to his eyes. 

 

“B—broken leg. Can hop? ...Dizzy though. Nauseous. Blurry vision. Still hallucinating some. Atropine I think. MDMA maybe still...in my...system also.”

 

Feel nothing, feel nothing, feel nothing. Not now. Don’t think about why either of those drugs were forcefully administered. Don’t think about how the MDMA probably forced Asha to get hard while the atropine made him feel like shit while suffering in a nightmarish hallucinogenic hellscape while they raped him. Definitely not thinking about that right now. They had to escape. Now!

 

“Ok, I’m going to stand you up and then I need you to lean on me. This will hurt tremendously but you must stay quiet or we risk failure. I’ll get us out of here. We’ll rendezvous with my teammates in one hour.”

 

Asha nodded lightly.

 

Itachi removed the extra pair of pants he’d brought along from his pack and gently helped Asha get them on, ripping off the right pant leg up to the mid thigh so they could get it over his broken tibia. The younger ravennette leaned his forehead against Itachi’s shoulder and bit down hard on the fabric of his kevlar vest to stop himself from screaming. Once they were standing and ready to go he looked as if he’d run a marathon already, panting heavily and valiantly attempting to hold back tears from slipping out of his eyes. It didn’t work and a few dripped down his face anyway.

 

Itachi checked the hallway and then got them moving in the right direction. They made it almost all the way to the meeting location before running into problems. Guards in surrounding areas forced them into an unknown hallway and then a stairwell. There were guards on all possible paths and any direction they moved would lead to them being seen. If they were seen Itachi wouldn’t be able to run while carrying Asha and they were likely to both be captured. Only one floor away from the main floor and escaping out the side of the building and they’d been cornered.

 

“Kill me,” Asha whispered.

 

Itachi’s head snapped to the side.

 

“I’ll reincarnate, it’s fine. Do it.”

 

“Asha..” he knew how important this revolution was to him, how much he’d already given for it, how devastated he’d be if it failed, “this revolution will likely fail without you.”

 

His face scrunched up, “I don’t want...you to be tortured. Not for me. They...they’re very good at it,” he breathed out, eyebrows furrowed and staring resolutely at the ground.

 

“If it comes down to it I’ll take us both out, ok? But don’t count me out yet, I have a good track record of completing difficult missions,” he paused, thinking.

 

“I have a plan. Stay hidden here, I’m going to incapacitate the guards and come back for you.”

 

Asha’s eyes flicked up to his face, “Understood.”

 

“I  _ will _ come back for you.”

 

Asha watched him leave, huddling in the corner behind the doorway in case anyone entered.

 

*** 

 

Forty-five minutes later and Itachi was back, this time with his two teammates. They’d taken out all the guards in the vicinity and returned to pick him up. Unfortunately for them, a couple of guards had found Asha while he was gone. That’s not to say he wasn’t capable of taking care of himself, but he was seriously injured and out of it at the moment. Itachi was impressed that considering those facts, he’d still managed to take out the guards, all three of their bodies lying dead on the ground surrounding him. 

 

The sickening reality though was that Itachi only had one photon sword on him and therefor hadn’t been able to leave him with a weapon to defend himself. Asha had been knocked out, he was bleeding from his head and the pants Itachi given him had been pulled down to his calves. It was hard to tell for sure whether the blood gathering there was new since he’d been so drenched in it when Itachi had found him to begin with, but he’d venture to guess it was. It seemed fresh.

 

It was hard to say what exactly happened but analyzing the scene Itachi figured that lacking any weapon he’d probably goaded them into raping him as punishment so that he could get close enough to rip their throats out with his teeth. At some point he’d been hit in the head with a hard object but it was already too late for the men assaulting him.

 

“Pick him up, we’re leaving. And...be gentle.”

 

***

 

The healing process was difficult and somewhat expensive but The Cause was willing to do what needed to be done now that Asha had been returned. He was one of their best fighters and he had valuable and critical information. They used forbidden medical technology to speed up his recovery. It was immensely painful for the patient with only a moderate chance of survival and the pain could not be dulled by any existing medication, but if the patient survived the three days of intensive care then all their injuries would be fully healed. Scars would be left behind and they could do nothing for the mental trauma but at least the individual was mobile. While it didn’t work for life threatening injuries or untreatable illnesses, it was sufficient for healing torn muscles, broken bones, and the like.

 

No one was allowed into the medical ward to visit the patient during this time and then immediately afterwards Asha was sent back out on the frontlines. Itachi didn’t see him again until two weeks later and when he did Asha avoided eye contact and flinched back into a corner when the older fighter came near him.

 

“I’m sorry, you didn’t do any wrong. I just,” a long pause here and Itachi waited with his heart pounding, “Sorry. It’s just the thought of you seeing...what you saw...and then whenever I see you it also reminds me of everything that happened. It hurts. Emotionally. It’s not like this is anywhere near the first time I’ve been raped or drugged but...it was the first time I’ve been tortured. I think it’ll take me some time to bury it. I can do it though, I’m working on it. I promise,” he swallowed thickly, “I am grateful for everything you’ve done. Thank you for coming for me...”

 

Asha wasn’t even looking at him. 

 

“I understand. Please don’t bury it though, it’s not a healthy way to cope. I would know, I spent a lifetime trying to suppress everything about myself and it was most certainly not the ideal way to handle things. If you need anything, I am your friend. Don’t forget that I care for you so please, come to me if there’s anything. I want to help you in any way I can.”

 

This was the saddest aspect of war, Itachi thought, how it broke people. Especially the kind ones. Compassionate souls always struggled the most under such atrocities. Asha didn’t deserve this. Itachi hadn’t deserved to be broken either, neither had any of the other people he’d known during his first lifetime or the current one. He despised war with his entire being, it brought nothing but destruction — both of the physical and mental kind, and even that of the environment. If only they could find a way to truly achieve peace — the right way though, not the way Madara would have created a fake peace using genjustu.

 

“There might be something you could help me with actually,” Asha uttered softly, quiet as if he hoped Itachi wouldn’t hear him.

 

In his first life as a shinobi he’d lost everyone he cared about and had no one left to comfort or to comfort him. In his second he’d not had to truly comfort someone and protect them from such a devastating event since the world had been so tranquil, that environment being so nurturing and forgiving to those who lived there. In his third, Itachi had comforted Deidara, protected him, loved him. He found that caring for others and being there to offer his assistance was fulfilling. He wanted to help people, to heal them. If he could be of use here and now for someone he considered a close friend than who was he to turn him down?

 

“Anything. Please, let me know what I can do.”

 

“Fuck me. I need you to fuck me.”

 

What?

 

That was the last thing he’d expected Asha to ask for under these circumstances. Previously they’d been together sexually, but with no strings attached, not that the younger knew about it since he was on a different timeline and hadn’t lived that life yet. They had developed an emotional bond as platonic companions before exploring that side of their relationship and their encounters were always lighthearted and playful, at least in the beginning. But in this lifetime...for Asha to ask this under these conditions, it was a shock. To Itachi they had a history and a deep connection developed but for Asha they hardly knew each other beyond the fact that they were fellow MLs and that Itachi had rescued him. While they’d certainly bonded to some extent in this lifetime, he was certain the silver-eyed male was nowhere near trusting him on such an intimate level.

 

“Why would you want that?”

 

“You fought for me. You came for me when no one else would, and yes, I know they weren’t going to send a rescue party if it weren’t for you so don’t try and deny it. I have no knowledge of what happened to make you feel this way but I can tell you care for me as a friend.”

 

“I do, the rules forbid me to speak of it but I consider us to be close allies and companions,” he answered, wide eyed.

 

“Yes, you wouldn’t have come for me otherwise,” Asha pointed out, “and the only way I can move past what happened now is to push through it. I need it to be with someone who I can trust. You’re kind and gentle and I feel like I can trust you with this. Itachi, please.  _ Please _ . I need this or I’ll be stuck in this nightmare in my head. It’s all I can think about! It’s all I dream about, over and over, endlessly—” he broke off, breath shaky.

 

This wasn’t healthy.

 

“I understand but is this the best way? Shouldn’t you rather try talking to someone instead?”

 

“Who would you suggest I talk to then? In this world people barely have a mediocre basic education, it’s not like there are trained psychologists hanging around that I could be counseled by. There’s no medication available either. We can hardly keep our people alive from physical maladies, there’s certainly no finances aimed towards mental health. Itachi, I would  _ never  _ want to force you into having sex with me, but if you feel you can do it and won’t be hurt by it then I implore you. Please do this, I have no other option. ”

 

Fuck. _ Fucking shit.  _

 

He didn’t know if this would truly help Asha, but he was willing to try. He already knew they had physical chemistry and on Itachi’s side there was a strong bond. He could do this. For him.

 

“When would you like for this to occur?”

 

“I can meet you in your room in an hour. There’s something I have to take care of first.”

 

“That’s fine with me.”

 

***

 

When Asha arrived it was clear what he’d needed to take care of first. The younger fighter was drunk, nearly swaying, and it was all Itachi could do to help him off his feet and onto the bed.

 

“I’m not sure we should continue, you’re intoxicated and therefore can’t give adequate consent. Besides, if you felt the need to arrive in this state it’s clearly hurting you a lot to do this. I don’t want to exacerbate the trauma and—”

 

Asha had placed a hand on his lips, missing the first time and grazing his cheek before righting himself and stopping the flow of speech from Itachi’s mouth. 

 

“Stop talking, please. I consented earlier and I can still do it now. Please! I need you to help me,” he pleaded frantically.

 

Itachi nodded, pausing for a moment to contemplate before proceeding to answer.

 

“Ok, we’ll continue then. However, if there’s ever a moment you want to stop just let me know and I will do so immediately. If that’s clear then...I’m going to begin now, ok?”

 

He nodded, eyes shifting away.

 

He moved from his position sitting on the side of the bed to hover carefully over the other, trailing his fingers up the side of his neck to end up cupped on Asha’s face. Leaning down he gently kissed the other, just a brush of lips at first before slowly moving to trace his bottom lip with his tongue. The other parted his lips, allowing entry in response to the unasked question.

 

After a moment their clothes were discarded and placed on the floor beside the bed, Asha’s thighs propped up on top of Itachi’s, hands fisted in the sheets, eyes staring resolutely at the ceiling as he was prepped. 

 

The whole event was soft, warm skin sliding against warm skin, long hair caressing wherever it fell. Soon after, Itachi was sliding in, slowly as to avoid hurting him.  

 

“Still ok?”

 

“Keep going.”

 

Not an affirmative on his mental state exactly, but this was what Asha wanted. He continued, thrusting in short slow circular movements, more of a perpetual deep rocking grind than anything else. If they were doing this then he wanted Asha to feel good, and having him previously as a partner allowed Itachi to utilize all his knowledge to make this a pleasurable experience for him.  

 

The elder leaned down once again and rested on his left elbow, caging the younger in somewhat and forcing him to look at Itachi’s face since his view of the ceiling was blocked. Having a close view of his facial expressions would be helpful, assisting the elder in determining any changes in mental state.

 

His right hand reached down to trace the younger’s hip, the junction between his hip and thigh, and then around to grab where his ass met the back of his leg. Gentle, everything gentle. He did his best to avoid touching the scar tissue littering his body from the whip used to torture him, so as to not give any reminder to the younger of those traumatic events. Those fingers reached inwards next, to press and massage around where they were joined. Asha moaned weakly, thrashing his head to the side in an effort to avoid eye contact.

 

Itachi tipped his face back and kissed him again, sliding his tongue in and exploring in tune with the undulations of his hips. Meanwhile, his free hand continued traveling, pressing hard on his perineum to apply pressure on his prostate from the outside while his cock rubbed against it directly.

 

He knew Asha preferred when he would apply constant rubbing pressure with his cock rather than pulling out and harshly jabbing into it directly — as Deidara did. Deidara liked hard spikes of pleasure. He preferred being rammed into repeatedly with time in between powerful thrusts into his prostate as Itachi slowly pulled all the way out. This allowed the blonde to really feel the weight and length of him against his walls and sensitive rim before being jolted once again by the pinpoint accuracy of his cock. 

 

Asha was different. He didn’t necessarily like the interval method of pleasure nor did he care for being handled roughly, preferring a more consistent kneading on his sensitive gland that never let up and never left his hole feeling empty. His orgasms built slowly but intensely and unlike Deidara he could come untouched as long as the pressure was unyielding. In fact, the ravenette actually preferred to come untouched if you were capable of making him do so. The orgasm was more intense that way and it enabled him to go another couple rounds since he’d only come from his prostate rather than his cock.

 

He had a problem of being unable to get out of his head during sex though, over-analyzing if given the chance and potentially losing interest in the physical activity. However, this could be counteracted by overwhelming his system. If he was forced to feel relentless incessant pleasure then he couldn’t escape it.

 

It forced to him live in the moment, as he was now.

 

He’d started gasping, chest heaving as he looked down to where they were connected and where Itachi’s hand continued to play with his thighs and ass, hole uncontrollably clenching rhythmically from the unceasing current of the older’s hips. He could feel all his nerves lighting up, the warmth centering inside him around that sensitive endlessly stimulated gland. His skin was flushed and the head of his cock was bright pink and leaking. Gulping in a breath of air, his blue-grey eyes snapped back to Itachi’s face, searching.

 

Voice trembling and as accusational as possible considering his current state, “you — ah! — you’ve been….ngh  _ ah _ with mmmnnn...me before. Haven’t y—you?”

 

Itachi moved his head into the juncture of Asha’s neck and shoulder, “You know I can’t  _ ngh _ answer that,” he panted with an amused lilt to his voice, biting down on his collarbone and then scraping his teeth up the column of his neck to nibble on his earlobe.

 

“You know exactly—” he broke off, distracted by the overwhelming unremitting pleasure. He couldn’t seem to stop moaning now that he’d began using his vocal chords to speak.

 

Itachi bit harder at his clavicle, sucking to leave a bruise, and quickened his pace to increase the friction along his prostate and push-pull-tug against his inner walls. He trailed his hand up to flick at and knead Asha’s pebbled right nipple before running it down to cup and gently squeeze his ballsack. He fingered the soft velvety skin he found there and rubbed his thumb down the middle to separate the two testicles and tug them away from the younger’s body lightly. 

 

He considered touching his cock but knew the younger would come harder if he didn’t. He settled for massaging the pink head for just a few minutes, dipping his finger into the slit and stroking the opening before retracting his hand. 

 

If the tears collecting in Asha’s thick eyelashes and the high moans he’d been unsuccessfully trying to contain since they’d started were anything to go by, Itachi would venture to say he was feeling pretty good. The elder fighter was similarly enjoying the experience, despite the pretext of why they were in this position in the first place. 

 

Asha had the warmest thighs, that shook and quivered around Itachi’s waist, locking him in a tight embrace. His plush lips were pillowy to the touch and he tasted sweet, whatever he’d been drinking to comfort himself it must not have been something bitter or heavily tasting of alcohol. And he had such a pretty pink hole that clenched around him tightly and gripped at his cock every time he tried to pull outwards. He was like drenched velvet on the inside, scorching. Itachi could feel the softness of his muscles around him and the squishing sensation of the lube — they both liked it wet, excess lube squelching out and dripping down Asha’s rim and onto the sheets. 

 

Sex with Asha was always some of the most magnificent he’d ever experienced. Each time was a mind-blowing event in and of itself. He was very talented in this arena — which Itachi hadn’t considered before but thinking of it now was likely due to exactly how much of it he’d been forced to have since he was scarcely old enough to walk and  _ oops _ , let’s not think about that at the moment lest he risk his cock wilting in the middle of intercourse — and always knew where to caress and what to say to set Itachi off like one of Deidara’s fucking explosions. 

 

Itachi paused, panting and grinding into the body beneath him, as he looked back up from where his face had been buried in Asha’s neck to leave a multitude of bright red hickeys. As he went to kiss him once again he felt the younger’s body seizing up, every muscle tightening, his hole pulsing around the turgid length submerged within it. Breaking the kiss and moaning deeply, he rested his forehead against Asha’s and watched as his pupils blew wide open, long dark eyelashes fluttering as he struggled to keep his eyes from shutting, and his flushed rosebud lips parted to release a moan turned whine. Then, his body jerked and thighs clenched and the one hand not already gripping Itachi’s bicep lept of the sheets to tangle a hand in the elder’s long satiny hair as he came hard.

 

Giving him no respite — he didn’t need it, liked the overstimulation —  the elder resumed his quick thrusts. He was pulling out more now to increase the friction against his cock and then snapping his hips quickly into the spasming muscles as he himself was reaching the end. He cupped Asha’s jaw and ran his thumb over his neck, feeling the spine at the back and adam’s apple in the front. His other hand gripped at the younger’s small waist, still trembling thighs, and plush ass, stopping to pull on one ass cheek and separate them somewhat as he thrust in hard a few more times before coming to a grinding halt and coming inside the other.

 

For a moment all that could be heard was their strained breathing as they both came down slowly. When he came untouched it always took longer for Asha to come back and Itachi hadn’t had sex more than a handful of times during this lifetime since he preferred it with someone he was emotionally close to. 

 

He remembered that the younger typically preffered to come at least twice if you hadn’t touched his cock much, and Itachi had a relatively short refractory period due to how long he’d gone without sex, so once they had waited a few minutes he began thrusting again. This time his own cum had been added to the mix and both the lube and cum squelched out around him. 

 

Asha moaned weakly, whimpering from the overstimulation, and clutching tight at Itachi’s sides. One of his hands swept around to Itachi’s chest to rub at a nipple while he tipped his head to kiss him again.

 

Taking the hand that wasn’t doing anything, Itachi brought it up beside Asha’s head and gripped his wrist, pushing it into the sheets and holding it there. This was something the younger normally liked but today...today he jolted and stiffened. Itachi stopped moving immediately, sensing something was wrong from the unexpected movement. He’d had his eyes closed, face buried in Asha’s soft hair while he ground deeply into him, the whole of their bodies connected and touching as the younger was trapped between the sheets and the man above him. 

 

Now, he opened his eyes and looked to see what expression the younger was making. Seeing the way his eyes were wide and unblinking in a staring contest with the ceiling, the way his delicate jaw was clenched in fear, and how he was very clearly trying to keep his face blank despite all this, Itachi was concerned.

 

“Let’s stop. Something triggered you,” he said firmly with quiet empathy laced through his tone, frowning lightly and moving to take his softening cock out and separate them physically.

 

“No!”

 

There was fear in his voice, desperation, but also determination.

 

“No,” quieter this time, eyes shaking and turned away, breath brittle on his next inhale, “please. Keep going.”

 

“Asha, I can’t keep an erection knowing that my partner is currently thinking about getting raped and tortured. I don’t know what you’re thinking about specifically, but I know enough to imagine. This hurts me to, I can’t be with you like this. I’m sorry,” he replied with an air of finality.

 

He was not going to fuck someone in the middle of a trauma-related flashback. Absolutely not. 

 

Asha pushed the older male off of him, reaching to grab his clothes in a rush. The alcohol from earlier made his footing unsteady and he crashed into the wall as he tried to get his pants on over his underwear. Sliding down it, he pulled his knees up to his chest and hid his face. 

 

The both paused where the were for a few moments, waiting with bated breaths and trying to figure out the best way to proceed. 

 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you do this. I’m sorry. I just don’t know what else to do, I don’t even know if it helped, but I thought...maybe,” the younger brought his face to his hands, hiccuping from how hard he was trying not to cry.

 

“Fuck, I really wanted that to work!” he exclaimed, slapping his palm into the floor in frustration, “I’m so screwed. Itachi, what should I do?”

 

“I don’t know. I’ve known many people who suffered from war-related trauma and PTSD but there’s always been counselors available. When I was a ninja in my first life the village I lived in had an entire unit built specifically for this purpose. I’m not trained to be able to help you.”

 

Itachi finished putting his pants back on and sat on the side of the bed, facing him. He slumped over, running a hand across his face and pushing his long bangs back while taking a sighing breath. The silence that stretched over them was tenuous and awkward.

 

“Do you want to try talking about it?”

 

“Do I have any other option at this point?”

 

“I suppose not. You could choose not to talk about it and do nothing?”

 

More silence.

 

“Let’s try the talking thing.”

 

***

 

Three weeks later and the revolution was failing. The information Asha had stolen had only gotten them so far before The Covenant realized what had occured and changed everything — all the passcodes, all the strategies,  _ everything _ — effectively rendering the data and what he had sacrificed for it useless. There was a feeling in the area of communal despair. The enemy way going to win. They were stronger, had more soldiers, more finances, more resources. The Cause was falling and it wouldn’t be long before it was lost altogether. 

 

When they won it would destroy everything. The lack of environmental regulations had already practically rendered the planet unlivable. Habitats were destroyed and most species had died out without the food or clean water necessary to sustain life. Only humans and cockroaches remained and with every passing day it seemed the humans would just as soon be obliterated. The top 1% coveted what little remained of resources, and the time would quickly arrive when it wouldn’t even sustain them. Their army of abused children turned robotic adults would surely cease to exist the moment they were no longer of use, and The Cause was losing members left and right to starvation, exhaustion, and assassination.  

 

In a last ditch attempt they decided to make one final push with everyone who was left. Unfortunately at this point ‘everyone’ amounted to about twelve people, including Itachi and Asha. It was a suicide mission and they knew it.

 

They went anyway.

 

Fighting back to back on the frontlines with their allies, they managed to take out nearly half of the enemy army. It wasn’t enough. 

 

As Itachi was fighting four at once, Asha saw a grenade thrown in his general direction. It was in this moment that he realized he loved the older man for everything he’d done for him. In a split second it all rushed back to him. Talking with him that first day, laughing as they ate together in the common room, getting captured, being rescued, talking and trying to heal, and now fighting together at the end of all things. 

 

This world would be dead soon, but Itachi didn’t have to die yet. Not just yet, not when Asha could do something about it.

 

Just as the older fighter took out the fourth enemy he was fighting, he turned around and saw the bomb heading his direction. It was almost on top of him and there wasn’t anything he could do.

 

Everything passed by in slow motion…

 

....and then, wide-eyed, he watched as Asha fell on the grenade.


End file.
